Death?
by ykwingedwarriorcr
Summary: The Force moves around something new, something Kanan has never seen before. He has no idea who or what it is, yet he pushes the thought of it to the side, at least for a little while. Alternate ending to Star Wars Rebels. Lots of Kanera fluff. More chapters coming soon!
1. Chapter 1

It had been several weeks since an imperial attack. Kanan was on edge, as was the rest of the crew. He was pacing back and forth in the Ghost's lounge before Ezra approached him.

"Kanan, are you alright?"

The man stopped and sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine." He sat down on the sectional and invited Ezra to sit next to him. "It's just... I have a feeling..." he trailed off.

"What kind of feeling? Something bad?" He studied Kanan's filmy eyes.

"Yes. It's been gnawing at me for several days now."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. It's still unclear," said Kanan, reluctant to speak.

A long silence passed between them before Ezra wandered off. Kanan relaxed and began to meditate on this.

* * *

 _Kanan!_

 _Kanan!_ A voice called out to him.

He could feel a drop of warm liquid fall on his face. _Blood?_ He thought.

 _Kanan!_ The familiar voice said again, this time closer to him. He heard crying, crying from a person he'd never heard crying before. _Don't leave me!_

 _Why? I won't leave..._ he said.

 _Kanan, you're-_

He felt as if he were falling into the dark abyss.

* * *

He snapped out of his vision, breathing heavily. He could hear nobody around, nobody but himself and his heartbeat. He reached out with the Force to make sure the rest of the crew was alright; maybe that would help him relax a little. They were, except he sensed the Force moving around something new, something that he had never seen or sensed before.

"You alright, love?" Hera had sat down beside him without him realizing it.

Startled a bit, he turned his head toward Hera's voice. "Yes, dear." He smiled. "Especially when you're around." He nuzzled his head into his wife's and kissed her cheek.

Hera smiled and hugged him. "I love you." She kissed Kanan back and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"So glad we escaped that pirate gang on Lothal," began Kanan. "I don't think we would have made it without you as our pilot." He had his arm behind Hera's back and ran his hand up her side.

"Yeah, you almost got yourself _and_ Ezra killed. I definitely can't afford that, especially now."

"Oh, yeah, because I'm part of the Rebellion? Part of the spark?" He laughed at his own silliness. Hera joined in, too.

"Yes, dear. That and another thing."

"What is it, love?" He looked directly into Hera's beautiful emerald eyes.

"Kanan... I-"

The ship was ripped out of hyperspace, jolting all the contents in the ship. "Hold that thought," Kanan said before his senses went on hyper-alert. "There are two Immobilizers on the scanners." He ran toward the cockpit with Hera close behind.

"And we're caught in a tractor beam."

* * *

"Damn it! We've lost control of the ship!" yelled Hera in frustration. Kanan was a little startled; he hadn't heard her swear in a long time.

"Prepare for boarding! Now!" Hera yelled to her crew.

"Aye aye, Captain Tightpants," Chopper grumbled in binary. He mock-saluted her.

"Chopper!" Hera gave him a nudge with her foot before grabbing her blaster.

The droid laughed and followed her.

What seemed like forever passed before the door burst open. Kanan was the first to react. Using the Force, he slammed the first two stormtroopers against the back wall of the imperial corridor. Sabine shot the next three, not missing once. A few more white-armored troopers came in, not lasting for more than five or six seconds. Then, there was a pause.

"Was that it?" Zeb inquired.

Kanan cautiously wandered a few steps into the corridor, being completely aware of his surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary, a few troopers patrolling the halls. Until, suddenly, Darth Vader himself jumped out at him. He assumed a defensive stance until Ezra caught up with him.

"This is where the Rebellion comes to an end, Kanan Jarrus," said Vader.

The hum of the two sabers intensified the air around him. A third one, Ezra's, disrupted it momentarily, but fell into place. It was a song Kanan was all too familiar with, but he felt alienated and a tad afraid.

"No," he reassured himself. "This is where it starts."

Vader was the first to swing his blade. Kanan bounced his off of it and swung it around to the opponent's knees. The motion of the blades was comforting to some extent, yet still deeply unsettling.

 _Don't let him take advantage of you_ , he reminded himself.

He glanced over at Ezra, who was trying to distract their opponent. Still, Kanan felt uneasy and distracted by what he'd been sensing over the last week. It was so close, yet so alien to him.

 _Was it something with Vader?_ He wondered as he blocked a series of swings from him. They were both beginning to move faster, and Kanan managed to push him back to the reactor core center while the others fended off stormtroopers.

* * *

Hera, watching the battle from a distance, was a little nervous. She noticed they were moving faster and faster, and Kanan seemed to be a little slower than usual. He was distracted by something, she could tell, but by what? She shot several more stormtroopers before watching a bit more.

"Come on!" shouted Sabine. "Let's get away while we can!"

Reluctantly, Hera followed the others back toward her ship. "What about Kanan and Ezra?"

"Don't worry, they'll find a way!" Zeb answered.

* * *

The rhythmic song of the light and dark blades continued. The pattern of the swinging and the clashing felt almost serene. Without realizing it, Kanan kept slowly backing up, which he subconsciously knew he shouldn't do. The tempo had gradually sped up, over such amount of time that he didn't notice it until now. He had a hard time keeping up with all of Vader's swings. He was cornered, yet he felt so close to freedom. Ezra jumped in, trying to keep Vader away from him. He spun around and his red blade grazed Ezra in the knee, causing him to fall to the catwalk. Kanan took advantage of the pause and swung at Vader's head, but he blocked the blue blade mere centimeters from himself.

The dance of the sabers kept on. It was one after the other. Hit, block, hit, block, hit again, block again at a more steadied tempo, but still insanely fast. He did this mindlessly and wandered in his thoughts. His mind went back to the Force signature he had sensed earlier.

 _It was something with..._

His thought was interrupted. He grimaced as the red blade slid out of the center of his chest. Only when he hit the ground did he feel the pain. He immediately fell unconscious.

"Kanan!" Ezra yelled. Vader had left for the others, he sensed. With all his might, he pulled himself up, limped over to the critically wounded Kanan, and dragged him back to the Ghost.

* * *

"Hey, kid, you alright?" Zeb asked Ezra, who was lying on the medbay bed.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He tried to sit up to look at his knee, which was still painful. The synthskin covered up the wound pretty well, though.

Zeb pushed him gently back down on the bed. "Hey, take it easy, now. You're not healed yet."

"I'm fine!" He struggled to sit up again. "Where's Kanan? How is he?"

Zeb scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, about that..." he took him in his bed to the other room.

"Is Hera... crying?"

* * *

A cold hand grasped Hera's heart when she saw the burnt hole in her husband's chest. He had a slow, weak pulse. Hera reached for his hand and gently squeezed his fingers. No response. There was nothing she could do for him. Kanan was going to die. She cradled his face, feeling his soft skin and beard for what was going to be the last time. A small tear of hers fell on his face, which he responded to.

"Kanan..." Hera said, choking back further tears.

He didn't reply, which made Hera even more heartbroken. It hurt for her to swallow.

Ezra was propped up against Zeb. They were both nervously waiting for him to wake up. Sabine was quietly biting her nails in the corner. They all knew he wouldn't make it.

She looked into his tranquil, filmy, turquoise eyes for the last time. He looked finally at peace, relieved of his worries at last.

"Kanan..."

"Hera..." he managed with a raspy voice. He blinked a couple times and smiled weakly. He felt no pain whatsoever; Hera knew him well enough that he would want to die comfortably. He was surrounded by the faces of the ones he loved.

"Kanan!" The kids said simultaneously.

"You're alive!" said Zeb.

Neither Sabine nor Ezra knew what to say.

"Are you... okay... Ezra?" Kanan asked.

"I'm fine."

"Sabine..? Zeb..? You, too?"

"Yes, Kanan, why are you worried about us?" Sabine replied.

Kanan turned his attention back to Hera.

Hera embraced her husband, no longer holding back tears. "Love..."

"Yes, dear?"

She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and smiled. Her fingers intertwined with his.

"I'm pregnant."

It wasn't long before another tear streaked her face.

An extremely shocked expression appeared on Zeb's, Sabine's, and Ezra's faces simultaneously. Sabine was the first of the kids to smile.

Kanan smiled. A tear ran down his face as well.

 _That's what it was!_

"I'm... I'm a dad!" He choked up and started to cry softly.

"I know."

Ezra had lost so much, and now he would lose his master, his father-figure, his friend. He couldn't be strong anymore. He let his tears flow along with Zeb, who was crying as well.

No matter how frustrating he was, Sabine had loved Kanan. And after losing her own father, he was the only dad she had. She was happy for both Hera and Kanan, as they were now expecting. It tore at her heart that he would never get to meet their child. Her mixed emotions blurred her vision and she started to cry as well.

"I... love you... Hera..." Kanan used his last scraps of energy to kiss her.

The kids didn't mind it as much as they used to; it really didn't matter now.

"I love you, too."

There was no longer a pulse. Hera's heart sank to the floor. She rested her head on his shoulder for a long time, mourning, knowing that there would be an emptiness in her, the baby's, and the crew's souls forever.

Sabine knelt down next to Hera and hugged her; she knew she needed it. Hera didn't bother to wipe her tears.

* * *

Eventually, the tears dried. There were no more. Crying was useless; the love of her life was dead, but life went on. She turned to Sabine, who still held her in an embrace.

"This is really bad timing, but... well... congratulations!" she said.

Hera smiled a bit. "Thank you, Sabine. For being here." She looked up to the rest of the crew. "And you, too. Thank you."

Zeb and Ezra felt a little awkward. Ezra hobbled over to Kanan and touched his shoulder. He looked at his lifeless, pale face and a lump formed in his throat. Ezra's eyes unfocused a bit, leaving him to his own thought. Every memory he'd had with Kanan flashed before his eyes, when suddenly, out of the rush, he heard a voice:

 _Ezra._


	2. Chapter 2

_Kanan!_ replied Ezra excitedly. _You're in my head?_

 _Well, if you put it like that,_ answered Kanan.

 _So you've become one with the Force?_ inquired the quite mystified Ezra. _Is that what the afterlife is like?_

Kanan sighed. _Yes. Listen, I sensed something about Hera and, well, you already know, but it was something... something more._

 _More? What do you mean?_

 _I need you to tell Hera that our child has a strong Force signature._

 _What? What does that mean? Wait-_ Ezra, puzzled, thought for a moment.

Kanan sighed once more. _I think our child is Force-sensitive, at least to some extent._

 _You really think so?_

 _Yes. I know what I sensed, Ezra. Well, now I know._ Kanan left Ezra's mind and was nowhere to be heard.

* * *

"Uh, Hera?" said Ezra from across the medbay.

Saying nothing, Hera turned her attention to Ezra.

"Kanan spoke to me. In my mind."

"Was it something with the Force?" asked Hera.

"Yeah, I think so. He told me to tell you that he thinks the baby is Force-sensitive."

Hera's expression cleared a bit. "How did he find this out?"

"He said he sensed it, it was like nothing he'd ever sensed before."

"I _knew_ he was distracted by something," sighed Hera. Suddenly, she felt a deep anger swelling inside, bursting at the seams. "And those _damn_ Immobilizers interrupted by ripping us out of hyperspace so I couldn't tell him!" She pounded her fist against the durasteel cot where Kanan lay. Tears of frustration and grief welled in her emerald eyes before she hung her head in sorrow.

Ezra walked over to her. "I'm sorry, Hera... I could've helped protect him-"

The Twi'lek woman placed her hands on Ezra's shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"If there is one thing I want you to know," began Hera, voice shaky. "It is that this is not your fault."

She wiped her tears and looked back at Ezra.

Sabine came up behind Hera and gently touched her shoulder.

"Hera," she spoke tenderly. "What should we do with his body?"

"I need to do this alone, Sabine."

* * *

The Twi'lek woman removed Kanan's clothing and laid them in a pile on a seat. She then filled a container of water and poured it gently over his head and neck. While she was cleaning his beard, Hera noticed he was wearing the necklace she'd given him long ago. She removed it temporarily and set it with the rest of his clothes. She continued fetching water from the one small sink the Ghost had and pouring it over Kanan's body. She made sure his entire body was thoroughly clean of any dirt.

Hera re-dressed Kanan and put the small wooden necklace back around his neck. She put his hair in a neat ponytail, combed his beard, and arranged his arms so that his hands were covering the gaping hole in his upper torso. Now, she had to let him lie there as they flew back to Lothal.

"I love you, my dear Kanan." She cradled his face as one single tear streaked her own.

* * *

Everyone searched for their nicest clothes, even though it wasn't much. Zeb dug some traditional formal Lasat garb out of a dusty crate he had sitting in his room. Sabine pulled an old black tunic from one of her drawers and put on some less paint-stained gloves. Ezra had nothing but the clothes on his back, but he'd grown some since he was found by the crew, and he now fit into most of Kanan's clothing. Hera suggested that he wear the black suit Kanan wore at their wedding.

She looked at Ezra and all she could see was the love of her life, awaiting his bride once more. It brought joy and melancholy to her at the same time.

Hera thouroughly searched her own quarters for formal wear or a dress of any kind. Her drawers were mostly empty except for a set of spare clothing and a few keepsakes.

Something in a compartment under her side of the bed caught her eye. A flat, gray box had been tucked away without Hera knowing about it. She knelt down, removed the box, and put it on her bed. Inside was something that was forgotten, yet never more meaningful to Hera; inside the box was her wedding dress. She held it just above the box, further examining the intricately embroidered fabric. The dress brought back so many good memories, happy memories, especially the time Kanan spilled S'dakke wine on the lounge floor of the Ghost when they were on their honeymoon. The both of them were drunk at the time, and they laughed and laughed about it. The stain was still there after years of neglected cleaning tasks. Those memories only caused her pain and sadness, now.

Finally, after a few minutes of thinking, Hera made the decision.

She laid the dress back in the box and put it back under her bed.

Hera walked out of her quarters in an old satin black tunic, a black skirt, silver sandals, a Twi'leki mourning headdress, and an amber necklace.

Sabine was waiting in the hallway when she spied Hera.

"Beautiful. Who gave you the necklace? You never wear it."

Hera smiled. "It was my anniversary gift; my first, actually. Thank you."

"You look nice, kid," Zeb commented as Ezra walked out of Kanan's old quarters.

"Thanks, you too." He turned to Hera. "Are we sure this is a good idea to go back to Lothal? I mean, in case we get attacked by pirates again or something?"

"You did say this temple could only be found by one strong with the Force, correct?" Hera asked as she guided the Ghost gently to the grassy plains of Lothal.

"Yeah... I did." Ezra went silent for a while.

* * *

The Ghost landed gracefully on the surface. The crew strode down the ramp quietly, the air saturated with a mutual sadness. The overcast sky made the grassy scenery seem dull. Zeb and Ezra carried the body wrapped in dusty white cloth on a stretcher. Chopper volunteered to stay with the ship; the droid wasn't skillful at consoling organics.

Without saying anything, Zeb and Ezra gently laid Kanan's body in the grass while Zeb began to dig a hole. Sabine went off to find a stone to mark the grave. Hera found herself gazing one last time at her beloved.

Once Sabine had returned, Zeb and Ezra solemnly picked up Kanan's body and lowered it into the ground. Zeb replaced the earth over him. They stood in silence until Sabine placed the stone above the grave. She knelt before it and marked it with black spraypaint:

Here lies Kanan

Leader and friend of the Ghost crew

Another long, melancholic silence. Hera searched her memory for the song she sang at her mother's funeral. Finally, it came to her:

"A'eswo talkan vil ruerejan rayao ka'bayet rao,

Rayao ar jei ni'hi nolna, ar tilikez.

Gan virsan cea'y veo gei neo sahak'chir ar dan.

Cea'y yuri ohk gue va'nisanm,

Gan cahsinark dey dan rao

Gan, cla, ohk solsani vil cahsinark vuret dan

Ootay ji tohsi tilsa'dec eih,

Ootay ji tohsi tilsa'dec eih."

Not one member of the crew hid their tears. Ezra knelt at the foot of the grave and began to speak.

"I want you to know that I think of you as a father, Kanan." He sniffed. "I barely remember my real parents, and you, Hera and Sabine and Zeb pretty much adopted me." A tear of his pattered on the overturned soil. At that same moment, both the temple and the sky's Force signature pulsed a tiny bit, almost unnoticeably to Ezra. "Thank you... for saving my life," he continued. "And I'm sorry I couldn't save yours. Goodbye, Kanan."

Neither Sabine nor Zeb knew what to say; they remained static. Hera took a small step forward.

"Love..." she began. "We made a promise. We promised to love and care for each other forever, and never to part until death... not even death." The woman wiped her tears and continued. "We also made another promise to help others and fight for those who cannot, and by the Force I'm going to keep that promise. I will finish what we've started. For you and for the good of others." Hera paused.

"Goodbye, my dear Kanan. I love you more than words can say."

They stood a bit longer, mourning, before walking back to the Ghost.

* * *

Sabine prepared a small meal for the crew in the galley. Hera, Zeb, and Ezra sat at the table, neither looking nor talking to each other. Zeb and Hera had stopped crying a while ago, yet still shared a deep sadness. Ezra was still expressing his; he'd just lost a man who was essentially his father.

Sabine emerged from the galley with the plates with various dried fruit on top of each. They'd been running low on rations lately, as they were on the run constantly. This batch was stolen from an imperial spaceport. The crew stared at their plates, reluctant to eat, but they were all desperate for food. They all finished eating in a matter of minutes. Hera was the first to speak.

"Thank you," she looked into Sabine's eyes. "But I need to be alone for a while," she said as she cleared her plate. She walked directly into her room.

* * *

Hera changed into her usual fatigues and sat at the foot of their bed. She looked at the empty side of her bed that belonged to Kanan. The shape of his body was imprinted in the sheets and on the pillow. The blanket was piled near where his ankles would have been. She slid her hand under the wad of fabric, grasped it, and pulled it up to her face.

It still smelled of him.

 _What I wouldn't give to see him again._

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed quietly for a short while.

The woman wiped her tears and looked up again. She found herself staring at the Kalikori Kanan had stolen back for her. He had loved her so much he took back her family history.

"I love you," whispered Hera through another shower of tears. She held the blanket close to her heart and smiled a bit.

 _The baby,_ she remembered.

Hera clutched the woven blanket to her stomach. The baby wouldn't have a father, but only things to remember him by. She let that sink in for a moment before looking around the room for any possessions of her husband's. She managed to find his mask, a couple of shirts, some hair ties, and a few small beads he used to put in his hair and beard. She placed all of the belongings near the Kalikori, which would be passed on to her child when the end of her own life came. But for now, it was her turn to add to the art.

But maybe not yet.


	3. Chapter 3

About ten weeks had passed. Sabine had covered her bunk in art to remember Kanan. Zeb was keeping an eye out for Hera, who was absolutely ravenous, constantly searching for food. Ezra remained in his room, meditating. He had been paying more attention to patterns in the Force, especially within the Ghost. Everything was at peace, but there were still echoes of chaos and melancholy. He noticed how the Force within and throughout the crew was more balanced now. He attempted to track the baby's Force signature. It had grown stronger, stronger even from yesterday. He felt an even stronger connection, but this one much closer to him.

 _Ezra._

 _Kanan?_

 _Yes. How is Hera?_

 _She seems fine. And you were right; your child's Force signature is unusually strong._

 _I sense it, too. It grows stronger every day._

 _I know,_ replied Ezra.

 _Promise me you'll take care of her, Ezra. Please._

 _I promise, Kanan. I will take care of Hera._

 _Thank you._ Kanan left his mind again.

* * *

The crew had landed on Yavin 4 and gone into the base to eat. Some of the Rebels had gone hunting the day before and brought back 150 kilos of Ixedanei meat and 30 kilos of Gesinthro berries and various tree fruits; the first fresh food anybody had had in weeks.

There were several campfires outside the spaceport in the grass. At each one there were at least a dozen people, all trying to cook their food at once. Hera walked over to one of the less crowded ones and began cooking enough meat for herself and the crew. Zeb helped her carry the platter back inside to a table inside the hangar.

"Oh, this looks _so_ good," Hera commented as she sat down. At that moment, she realized her pants were getting a little tight.

"Real food at last!" exclaimed Zeb.

Sabine entered the hangar, seeing Chopper quite literally butting heads with another astromech in the corner. The intoxicating aroma of grilled meat invaded her nostrils. "Fresh meat, huh?" she said as she sat at the table with the others.

"Yeah, it's really good. I hope you're hungry," said Zeb. "And I suggest eating some soon before Hera eats it all."

Sabine elbowed him in the arm and gave him a dirty look before taking a plate for herself.

Hera rolled her eyes and continued eating. She already had half of her plate cleared.

Ezra wandered in after a short while. Hera was cutting herself another huge chunk of meat, leaving about a quarter of the original amount.

"Hey, save some for the rest of us!" Ezra said jokingly. He sat down and cut himself a smaller piece.

They ate and talked together happily for a long time. After a while, Zeb and Ezra left, wrestling on the way out. Sabine giggled. No matter how stupid they could be, they were at least a little funny. She turned back to Hera.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Well, like a mess, actually," Hera sighed. "I still feel a little sick, I'm tired, and I've eaten much more than my share of rations... sorry." She smiled kind of awkwardly. "Also, these pants are _really_ tight. I think I'm going to need a new pair, and soon." She winced a bit and tried to adjust them to be at least slightly more comfortable.

"Hera," began Sabine with a genuine tone of voice. "It's fine. We can live with fewer portions." She smiled with reassurance. "We just want to help."

"Thank you, thank you _so_ much," said Hera. "I couldn't have asked for a better crew."

 _I just wish Kanan were back._

Sabine blushed a little and smiled sweetly.

"And about the pants; have you... told anybody yet?"

Hera sighed. "No, and I probably should." She looked down at her plate; it was totally spotless. "I really hope this doesn't mean I'm grounded."

"Me, too." A slightly concerned expression appeared on Sabine's face.

"I'm going to tell Senator Mothma now, actually," Hera said as she got up to clear her plate.

* * *

"Well, good news!" exclaimed the woman as she met the crew inside the Ghost. The ship was pretty much their place to sleep; the base didn't have a lot of extra cabins. Hera was holding a larger pair of oil and dirt-stained red-orange pants in her arms. "I'm not grounded!"

"That's a plus," said Ezra as he looked up at her. He was studying the design of Kanan's lightsaber, which was lying on the table.

Hera excitedly went into her quarters and began changing into the other pair of pants. When she removed the first pair, she felt a tiny flutter of movement from the baby. She gently placed her hand near her navel. She felt a rush of happiness and joy for a moment, temporarily hiding the deep grief within her.

 _How can I love someone so much that I don't even know yet?_

* * *

Ezra, in the other room, sensed a slight tremor in the force.

 _Kanan?_ he wondered.

No answer.

He waited a bit longer before figuring out it was Kanan and Hera's baby.

* * *

"Hi, there," said Hera quietly.

 _Is this normal?_ she wondered. _Can he or she even hear me?_

The baby moved a little again in response to its mother's voice.

A smile, the widest she'd had in a long time, appeared on Hera's face.

"You like having more room, don't you?"

She finished donning the other pants and sat down on the bed. It was actually comfortable to sit down now. She looked over at Kanan's belongings next to the Kalikori. She had yet to add on to it, but what?

Again, she looked around her room, this time for a small stone or piece of metal.

Nothing.

Suddenly, an idea came to her. She walked up to her door, reached for the lock, but stopped.

 _No, I can't. I won't._

Hera realized that Kanan's lightsaber was the only thing Ezra had to remember his master.

After hours of searching the entirety of the Ghost for a small piece of something, she finally gave up after realizing how late it was getting. She went back to her cabin, turned off the light, and buried herself in the covers.

She lied there, awake, ideas rushing through her mind. She'd worry about it in the morning. For now, she needed to at least try to sleep.

"Goodnight, my dears," whispered Hera. "I love you." Her words lingered in the darkness of the room.

* * *

"Grand Admiral Thrawn," said Governor Pryce as she strode into the room. "The Jedi Kanan Jarrus has been confirmed dead. Several of our troopers came across a grave marker about one hundred clicks away from the nearest settlement that read, 'Here lies Kanan Jarrus, leader and friend of the Ghost crew.'"

"Kanan Jarrus. He and Hera Syndulla were quite close, were they not?" The man walked slowly around his office with his hands behind his back. He studied the various pieces of art, eyes lingering on the pedestal where Hera's Kalikori used to stand.

His question didn't require an answer. Instead, he sat back down at his desk and pulled up dossiers on Hera and Kanan.

"Possibly even married," he added as he wrote 'DECEASED' on Kanan's file.

"I wouldn't go as far as to say they were _married,_ " said the Governor.

"Oh, I think there is still much we don't know about the individuals," replied Thrawn.

Governor Pryce went silent as she pondered this for a moment. _What_ do _we not know?_

"The two met on Gorse and fell in love rather quickly," Thrawn began. "Some say it was immediate."

He paused for a moment, thinking further. "If they did, in fact, get married, it would not have been long after they met, knowing their patterns of behavior."

"Vader reports that Kanan seemed distracted by something in the battle that he lost," added Pryce. "Would that happen to have anything to do with Hera?"

"It is very possible; I've always been told attachment often clouds a Jedi's senses," Thrawn answered. "But Vader knew it had something to do directly _with_ the force, which is not strong in Syndulla."

The Governor had her hand over her chin, deep in thought.

"What could this mean?"

"I'm not jumping to any conclusions," said Thrawn, "but it is a great possibility that General Syndulla is pregnant."


	4. Chapter 4

"Lord Vader," said the Grand Admiral to the hologram. "I believe I may have made an important discovery."

"Let me be the judge of that," Vader replied.

"I have come to speak with you about Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla."

"I see. What have you to tell me?"

"You said you had sensed something out of the ordinary before and when you killed the Jedi, correct?"

"Yes; It seemed to stay very near General Syndulla," stated Vader. "The Jedi had feelings of love toward her, did he not?"

"I would agree." Thrawn nodded slightly.

"Feelings of attachment often cloud a Jedi's senses."

"Would it be possible for Jarrus and Syndulla to conceive a child?"

Vader closed his eyes behind his mask and reached out in the Force. In a great physical distance existed two different signatures: one smaller and a much stronger one near it. They were both resting in one place, but he couldn't tell exactly where. The smaller of the two had certainly grown stronger since he last sensed it. It seemed to back away as he tried to look more closely. Echoes of the Jedi Jarrus resided within the entity. He exited his short-lasting meditative state.

"It seems your studies of the Rebels have finally amounted to something. It is true; their child is strong with the Force and will only get stronger."

"Shall we notify Imperial forces?" inquired Thrawn.

"Double the bounty on Syndulla's head. Leave the search to me."

* * *

 _Ezra._ Kanan's voice had a serious tone. _This is urgent._

 _What is it?_ Ezra replied.

 _The Empire knows that Hera's pregnant._

 _Wait... How? Did Vader sense it?_

 _I think so, but I don't know if he was the first one. Listen, you need to leave Yavin 4. Now._

 _I'll protect her. I promise._

* * *

Ezra ran from his cabin up to the cockpit of the Ghost, where Hera was shaping a small piece of wood with a blade. She seemed to be fairly calm, repetitively shaving off small, thin sheets of it. On the other hand, Ezra could sense the baby was nervous, shaken. He looked a bit deeper and found an extraordinarily strong connection in the Force.

 _Vader._

"Hera, Kanan spoke to me again," said Ezra. "He said we need to leave Yavin 4."

Hera turned to Ezra. "Why?"

"The Empire knows about the baby."

" _Chod_ ," she said under her breath. "We need to get supplies, first. They put it on my 'wanted' file, didn't they?" She scowled and stood up from the seat.

Ezra nodded as he pulled it up on his datapad.

Hera sighed before rushing out of the Ghost. She ran directly to the nearest fuel canister, set it on transport mode, and boarded it onto her ship. She repeated this a few times before a man in a worn jacket and stained work pants noticed her.

"General—may I ask what you're doing?"

Hera practically screeched to a halt in front of the next canister and looked him in the eye.

"Tell Senator Mothma I will explain _everything_ if or when I return."

She took the fuel, pushed it up the Ghost's ramp, and ran back out after a few seconds. This time, she was headed for the pile of crates near the corner of the hangar. They were each filled with leftover salt-preserved meat from the hunt a few days before. She took two, ran them into the Ghost, and prepared the ship for flight.

* * *

Zeb was the last one to wake up. He yawned, stretched, and cracked his back. He sat up in bed and hit his head against the top bunk.

"Ow," he muttered.

 _Has it gotten colder?_

He quietly padded out into the hallway and looked to the cockpit. Nobody was there; the Ghost was in hyperspace. He frowned and decided to check the lounge. Hera, Sabine, and Ezra were all buried under a blanket on the sectional. They all looked up at Zeb when he walked in.

"What's going on? Why are we in hyperspace?" asked Zeb.

"We have to hide from the Empire," replied Hera. "They're on to us."

"Okay... Where are we going?" He sat down on one of the stools across from them and shivered a bit.

"Away from Yavin 4," said Sabine as she tossed Zeb a blanket. "We can't risk the Empire finding our base because of Hera and Kanan's baby."

"What would the baby have to do with anything?"

"Zeb, Kanan was strong with the Force, and so is his baby," Ezra answered. "Vader can sense a connection to the baby's force signature. He can't tell where he is, or at least we hope so."

"Okay, good, I guess."

Zeb shivered a bit more and pulled the blanket tighter around himself. His fur stood up on end in an attempt to keep in body heat.

"Sorry about the cold," said Hera. "We have to have as much power directed to the engines as possible. We could only bring so much fuel."

"Come sit up here, it's warmer," invited Ezra.

Without saying anything, Zeb got up and sat next to him. He piled his blanket on top of himself and Ezra. Hera smiled and looked over at her family. Sabine had her knees pulled up to her chin, and Ezra pulled himself closer to her.

In the distance, but also right next to her, Hera felt a presence of Kanan. She almost felt his arm around her shoulders. She smiled and put her hand up to where Kanan's would be, touching it gently.

 _I love you, dear. I miss you._

She could almost see him reflect her smile.

For the first time since he had died, Ezra felt Kanan's presence very strongly—he was almost physically there. He could feel the connection through the Force between Kanan and his baby growing stronger.

But, like a fleeing shadow, he was gone.

His presence lingered in the air and the in the Force for a long while.

He wasn't really gone, after all.

* * *

Fifteen weeks had slowly passed. There was no sign of the Empire, fortunately, but Hera couldn't risk supply runs to _any_ planet with the amount of money on her head. She mostly stayed in the Ghost, painting Kanan's old cabin or working on the Kalikori. The changes in her body meant that she was slower and sometimes had trouble with balance. Zeb volunteered to do ship maintenance as requested by Hera, or anything to help her. Sabine was in charge of feeding everybody, being the only one in the crew that could prepare a decent meal. Ezra made himself useful in general, and privately worked on a small Lothcat plush for the baby. At the moment, he was sitting in silence on the sectional of the Ghost. He slipped in and out of visions and Force connections throughout the nearby planets and within the crew.

 _Ezra..._

 _Ezra..._ The word echoed in his mind.

 _You there!_

 _Help her..._

 _The crew is here..._

 _Protect her with your life..._

 _Kanan!_

 _Ezra, no... no!_

He heard a cry of pain before a hollow silence came upon him.

 _Train the child._ The familiar voice startled him.

 _What?_

 _Ezra, are you ready for this? This is a big step,_ said Kanan.

 _Ready for what?_ replied the confused Ezra.

 _I'm asking you to train my child as a Jedi. Please._

 _Really?_ _You want me to do this?_

 _Yes. I'll be with you the whole time._

Ezra sighed. _I'm ready, then._

* * *

Hera was sitting in Kanan's old room, surveying the things she and Sabine had painted. On one side, Sabine had painted a starbird, and on the other, a Loth-wolf. Hera had painted various designs on the door frame, similar to the ones on the walls of Lessu. So far, she approved of everything. She smiled, touched her quite prominent belly, and realized something. She slapped her forehead for being so stupid.

 _Crap. I have to get baby clothes. Why didn't I think of this earlier?_

Hera smiled anyway and ran her hands slowly up and down her stomach.

"I'm so excited to see you," she said joyfully.

The baby stretched and moved its foot under Hera's hand.

Again, she felt Kanan near her. Hera touched the place where he touched her last time, right below her shoulder. She felt no grief or emptiness, but instead comfort and hope. He was security in a time of chaos. Hera felt him embrace her before his presence faded.

 _Thank you, Kanan, for giving me our baby._

"Only a few more weeks, my dear. I love you."

Hera stood up and realized how tight her boots were getting. Her feet probably had swollen to a size and a half in the last seven months. She walked out to the lounge where Sabine, Ezra, and Zeb awaited her.

"Hera, we need to make a supply run," said Sabine. "It's desperate."

"Yeah, we're out of bolts and several other parts I can't name," said Zeb.

"We're running low on food of almost any sort," added Sabine.

"Perfect timing; we need baby clothes." Hera put her hands on her hips. "We'll find the nearest planet and hope for the best."

"Wait, are you coming with us?" asked Zeb.

"With the amount of credits on my head? Are you serious?" Hera replied.

"Good point."

"Sabine, you're in charge of food and clothing. Zeb, you get whatever parts we need," the woman ordered.

Hera entered the cockpit and began to set a course for Rishi. While she did this, Sabine and Zeb changed their clothing. Sabine wore just a plain tunic and her regular pants, while Zeb wore a hooded jacket and some long brown trousers.

They decided to land on the outskirts of Keseihen, a town crawling with merchants and smugglers, in the hopes of avoiding notice. Sabine entered the cockpit.

"Um, Hera, what kind of baby clothes are you looking for?"

Hera swiveled around in her chair until she was facing her. "I don't know, just find something. I guess I really don't care at this point." She chuckled a bit as she bent down to the floor to open a small compartment. Inside was a good-sized stack of credits; they had stolen them from an Imperial spaceport a while back. She grabbed about 300 credits worth and handed them to Sabine. She put the lid back on and stood up. Her lower back was starting to hurt. She reached in her pocket and took out a few more credits.

"A little extra for the clothes."

Sabine took the golden-colored slabs and put them in her belt pouch.

"Thanks."

"Have fun!" Hera said jokingly. "Be safe."

 _Wow, now I'm really starting to sound like a mother._

* * *

Sabine was pushing three crates full of dried fruit and vegetables while searching for any kind of clothing shop. Zeb was following close behind with a mix of wooden planks, durasteel rods, and a package of nuts and bolts in his arms. Sabine glanced back at him.

"What are you building?"

Zeb looked around to make sure no one else was listening.

"I'm building a bed for Hera's baby," he said quietly.

Sabine smiled, half because of the thought of Hera's reaction and half because of surprise.

"Really? You're so kind!"

"She deserves it, especially after all she's done for us."

Sabine looked to her right. "There!" She darted in the direction of a small shop labeled 'Ezinaea's Wear.'

"You watch the stuff," she told Zeb as she left the crates by the entrance.

* * *

As Sabine entered the shop, the cloaked figure lowered his binoculars. He had been avoiding most of the citizens and remaining hidden in the shadows as he observed business transactions. He raised his binoculars again to scan the shallow valley at the outskirts of town. At the base of a low bluff, he noticed a ship with a characteristic flat shape.

 _Must be a Corellian freighter,_ he thought to himself.

He increased the magnification of his binoculars. Sure enough, it was a freighter. A VCX-100 to be specific. He spied colorful paint on the hull.

 _Wait a minute,_ he thought. _That's the Ghost!_

He could only dream of how rich he would become. _Two hundred thousand credits for just Syndulla!_ Even more if he captured the whole crew.

He unlatched his comm from his belt. "Governor," he said in a low voice. "I've found the Ghost crew on the planet Rishi."


	5. Chapter 5

When Sabine walked into the clothing shop, she was astonished at the size of it. It had looked at least half the size on the outside. She greeted the shopkeeper with a small wave, smiling awkwardly. As she made her way further into the store, she stood on her toes to peer over the racks of clothing to look for any section labels on the wall.

"There we go," whispered Sabine as she spotted one that read 'Baby' in a distant corner. She edged through the racks, eyes on her destination.

She reached a table with a large variety of neatly folded and stacked baby clothes. She squealed quietly over the tiny size of the clothing.

 _They're so cute and small!_ she thought. They also came in every color she could imagine.

Sabine looked over each style and color, keeping Hera in thought. Neither of them knew the baby's gender, so she avoided pink and blue. Her instincts told her to look for something orange, something a pilot would wear. She picked up a plain, soft yellow-orange jumper with dark blue trim that was lying near a corner of the table. She decided she liked that one and held it in her arms while selecting other clothing.

 _Wait, we'll need more than one size,_ Sabine realized.

She dug through the stacks, picking a couple of articles of each size from newborn to twelve months. She also grabbed a couple of cloth diapers.

Arms full of colorful fabric, she made her way back to the front of the shop. She deposited the stack on the counter and reached for her credits in her belt pouch.

The shopkeeper smiled at Sabine a bit before scanning the first few items. "Baby shower?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah, my sister's having one tomorrow," Sabine lied. "She's due pretty soon."

She finished scanning the clothes and turned to the datapad on the counter. "Your total is 107 credits."

 _Cheaper than I imagined,_ Sabine thought as she slid the credits across the counter. The shopkeeper put them in the register and bagged the clothing.

"Thank you!" said the shopkeeper as her customer walked out the door, carrying two big bags.

* * *

Sabine set the bags of clothing on the crates and turned to Zeb. Before she could speak, three Star Destroyers emerged from hyperspace above Rishi, rattling the ground and everything on it. The civilians stood in shock, looking up at the arrowhead-shaped cruisers.

"We're leaving. Now," said the Mandalorian.

Sabine quickly set the crates to hover and ran them down the street, and Zeb picked up his building materials and followed her. They shouldered their way through the crowd staring up at the Star Destroyers as they made their hasty departure. They were pretty sure nobody noticed them.

As they bolted out of Keseihen, Sabine and Zeb had their eyes set on the Ghost. It was still a great distance away, partially hidden in a cluster of trees. Zeb looked up and saw that the Destroyers were deploying TIE fighters.

"Faster!" he urged Sabine. "They're coming!" He took longer strides and sprang from his toes when he ran.

The scream of the TIEs grew louder. They swooped in close to the two Rebels and fired ruthlessly at them before pulling away. Luckily, most of the shots missed, but a few of them were too close for comfort.

 _Wow, these guys_ still _can't hit us,_ Sabine thought to herself.

* * *

The first shot hit the Ghost, alerting Hera. She pulled out her comlink and shouted for Sabine.

"Spectre Two to Spectre Five, where are you? Spectre Five, do you copy?" she demanded as she began to ready her ship for immediate takeoff.

"Spectre Two, I copy!" Sabine shouted over the sound of a tree being blasted to pieces. "We're almost to the Ghost with the cargo, lower the boarding ramp!"

"Lowering the boarding ramp," said Hera as she pulled the lever on the right side of the console.

Sabine made a sharp turn to angle herself and the crates toward the Ghost. She and Zeb made their final burst of speed a few meters from the ramp. They practically leapt up it before it shut behind them.

Hera pulled up as hard as she could on the steering as soon as she knew they were on board. "One of you, man the dorsal turret!" she ordered.

Zeb dropped his cargo in the corner next to the crates and crawled up the ladder as quickly as he could, following her command.

Hera turned the Ghost around to allow Ezra, manning the nose turret, to fire at three TIEs heading toward them. He hit two of them, and Zeb took out the last one. She turned up the engines to full and banked left, flying over Keseihen while being chased by another TIE. Several months ago, Hera had hired a Rebel mechanic to make some upgrades to the Ghost's engines. While they approached the town, they made little noise. There was a fraction of a second of quiet before a earsplitting boom struck the town below. It shook everything once again, but more suddenly and vigorously.

"That's new," said Ezra. "Did Darem make the engines quieter?"

Hera laughed. "No, we're breaking the sound barrier in atmosphere!" she exclaimed.

She steered the Ghost to avoid several more shots. Zeb wheeled the turret around and squeezed off several short bursts at the fighters on their tail without missing a single one. They shot out of atmosphere and prepared to make the jump to hyperspace. The stars in the periphery stretched right before they jumped—no, _didn't_ jump. The ship seemed to be stuck in the pre-jump stage.

"Why are we stuck?" asked Hera with suspicion in her voice as the Ghost defaulted to its normal flying state.

Sabine rushed to check the hyperdrive. Everything was online, or so it seemed to be. "It's not the hyperdrive," she shouted to the cockpit.

"We're too far out of range to be caught in a Destroyer's tractor beam," stated Zeb.

"Um... Hera?" Ezra said from the nose turret without looking up at her. "Look."

The pilot turned her head only to see a Super Star Destroyer looming above them.

"Well," said Hera. "That would explain it."

* * *

As the Ghost was brought in for docking, Admiral Rixon turned to the dark figure at his side. "Sir, shall we send troopers to board the ship?" he asked.

"No," answered Vader. "I will bring two escorts with me."

His breathing echoed in the corridor as he strode slowly down it. He tuned out the troopers' footsteps behind him as they approached the Ghost.

"Remain here until I return," he commanded the troopers.

As he opened the side airlock, he expected to deflect a blaster bolt. To his surprise, not a single member of the Ghost crew was to be seen. He cautiously walked into the freighter, lightsaber at the ready, Force senses extended.

Ezra held himself up on the ceiling above the airlock as quietly as possible, waiting for Vader to pass. Without warning, he dropped down from the ceiling behind his opponent. He swung his green blade at Vader's helmet, grazing the back of it. Vader spun around and thrust Ezra against the wall using the Force before continuing on into the lounge. Ezra crumpled against the base of the wall.

Behind the sectional, Zeb crouched next to Sabine. They were utterly silent, waiting for the sound of Ezra's lightsaber once more. Long seconds passed, but they heard nothing. Finally, they heard Ezra's saber ignite and clash with Vader's. With the dark lord distracted by Ezra, Sabine began to shoot at him before Zeb joined her, snarling with fury.

Sabine hit him once. Once was all they needed to stall him. Vader's mechanical arm began exploding with sparks while Ezra went to swing at him again.

"Go, Hera!" Sabine shouted.

Hera took advantage of the pause and bolted toward the Phantom, her knees aching every step. She fired up the shuttle's engines and prepared for takeoff.

Vader, not far behind, stalked after her. He boldly made his way to the rear airlock. Ezra jumped in front of him, desperately trying to protect Hera. They fought intensely for a few seconds before Vader cast Ezra behind him, holding him away with the Force, along with Sabine and Zeb. He raised his other hand and focused his power to stop the shuttle from moving.

Hera felt a strangling band tighten around her body. Against her will, her body rose from the pilot's seat and was turned to face Vader. Her eyes widened as she looked into the dark mask.

Vader bent his arm slightly and brought Hera closer. Her feet dragged against the ground.

For the first time in years, she was afraid.

"Seize her!" Vader barked to the troopers waiting at the side airlock.

Hera struggled against his grip before the two stormtroopers rushed over to her. They cuffed her hands behind her back and took her by the shoulders, marching her forcefully past her crew. The worried looks on their faces mirrored her own.

Zeb thrashed and snarled, trying to break Vader's force grip. He wanted to launch himself at the white-armored men and tear their heads off. Sabine yelled angrily, mostly at Vader and some at herself for letting Hera be captured. Ezra felt only a short rush of anger and guilt, followed by reassurance.

 _I am with you, Ezra,_ Kanan said calmly.

Ezra looked with determination at Hera as she was taken out of the Ghost.

 _I will bring you back, Hera. I promise._

* * *

"Transfer Syndulla to the _Chimaera_ for questioning," commanded Vader.

"Yes, sir," responded the trooper on Hera's right with his electronically-altered voice. They moved Hera's hands to her front and headed for the prison shuttle at the nearby flight deck.

Vader returned to the command center, his thoughts centered on the obviously strong Force signature of Syndulla's child. Admiral Rixon greeted him with a salute.

"Lord Vader," said the admiral. "What shall we do concerning the Ghost?"

"Cut it loose and use it for target practice for our finest cadets."

* * *

The stormtroopers shoved Hera in the small shuttle. She stumbled a bit but caught herself before she could fall. The seats along the sides of the ship were mostly full except for a few scattered between prisoners. She spotted one in the far corner and walked self-consciously to it, her gaze directed downward. As she sat, she could feel a dozen pairs of eyes staring at her.

Hera took a quick glance at the row opposite from her. She could see many kinds of people: A few humans, Ithorians, Rodians, three Mirialans, two Zabraks, a Wookiee, a Bothan, a Togruta, and a few others she couldn't name. She even saw another Twi'lek. Next to her sat a taller man in an orange prison suit. His chocolate-colored hair was neatly kept in a short braid. He had a similar physique to Kanan's, which made Hera miss her husband a little more. She looked back down at her cuffed wrists and her enlarged stomach, feeling the baby move some.

 _It's alright, dear,_ she wanted to say. _You're safe for now._

As the prison shuttle took off, Hera sank in her seat, her feelings of loneliness and violation consuming her.


	6. Chapter 6

Everybody on the prison shuttle sat in silence, their bodies still. To Hera, they all seemed deep in thought.

Hera glanced again at the man next to her. He was hunched over, looking at his folded hands. As she looked closer, she noticed a tiny mark on his knuckle. It was small enough to be dismissed as a mole, but it wasn't the right color. She leaned in slightly to get a closer look.

It was a Rebel brand. She knew she had seen it before, but couldn't quite recognize it. He started moving his thumb up and down in what seemed to be a random pattern. It continued for a while, until Hera figured out the pattern was cycling.

 _Wait..._ she realized, watching the sequence of fast and slow taps. _I know that_ _code..._

Hera waited for the pattern to start again and began to translate it in her mind.

He tapped his thumb twice. _H..._ Then three fast taps. _E..._

Hera watched intently without turning her head to his hands, as not to draw attention to them. _R,_ he tapped out.

 _E... T... O..._ he continued.

 _H... E... L... P._

 _Here to help,_ Hera translated. _Who is this guy?_ she thought.

Hesitantly, she tapped _Who are you?_ on her leg with her thumb.

He responded with a short tap, then a long one, then another short one. _A... N... D... R... E... X... I... S._

 _Andrexis._ Hera recognized the name. _Who do you work for?_ she asked him.

 _Saw Gerrera,_ Andrexis answered.

Hera's eyes widened a bit as her mind flooded with memories of Saw almost killing the last surviving Geonosian. She suddenly remembered the brand on Saw's knuckle, the same one on Andrexis's.

 _Of course I'm stuck with a terrorist. Great,_ she thought.

 _Talk at next meal?_ tapped Andrexis.

 _Sure,_ responded Hera reluctantly.

* * *

Two officers were supervising the arrival of the prisoners. Hera was the last one off, and they stopped her.

"This one is to be taken to Grand Admiral Thrawn," said one officer to the other.

Hera's escorts came up behind her and took her by the shoulders, one of them holding a blaster to her back.

 _What's the point?_ she thought. _You won't kill me._

Her eyes lingered on Andrexis as her escorts took her past the other prisoners. She was nervous to speak to him, afraid of what he'd say.

After a few minutes of walking through the brightly-lit corridors, Hera was getting tired. She hoped it wasn't too much longer, as her feet and back were starting to throb with every step. Her anxiety-driven thoughts raced through her mind.

 _What will Senator Mothma say when I return?_

 _Will Thrawn hurt my child?_

 _Does Vader want him or her to serve the Empire?_

They eventually left her on the thought of Kanan.

 _Kanan._

A brief anger came upon her. If it weren't for him, she wouldn't be in this mess. Yet, she dearly missed him.

The stormtroopers brought Hera into the interrogation chamber, where Thrawn awaited her. A slight smile appeared on the admiral's face as the escorts bound her to the inclined table and fastened the leg restraints.

"Excellent work, troopers," he said. "You're dismissed."

He turned to his prisoner as the escorts left, still smirking. Hera scowled at him, looking into his ruby-colored eyes. Tension built in the silence.

"General Syndulla," Thrawn began. "I am pleased to have you here."

"What do you want?" Hera asked belligerently.

Thrawn pulled up a star map on the holotable. "Let us discuss the location of your Rebel base, General."

"You'll _never_ get that from me," said the woman with determination.

"Is that so?"

"You'll have to kill me first," began Hera, building confidence.

"Unfortunately, I was given strict orders to keep you alive." Thrawn sat down next to the panel of controls. "At least until you deliver Kanan Jarrus's child."

 _How would_ you _know it's his?_ Hera's eyebrows furrowed a little further.

Thrawn pressed a few buttons on the control panel and a long, mechanical arm extended from the ceiling above the table. At the end of it was a small blade, a dull one at that. It slowly moved closer to the center of Hera's chest. She pressed herself against the table as hard as she could, eyes focused on the blade drawing near. She grimaced as it punctured her skin, then let out a cry of pain.

* * *

Ezra dashed to the cockpit when he heard the airlock close and release. He switched the Ghost from docking mode to flight mode and took off at full speed. In the distance, a squadron of TIEs approached them.

"Zeb!" he shouted. "Man the dorsal turret!"

Zeb sprang up the ladder, following Ezra's command. Sabine instinctively ran down to the nose turret while Chopper was in the cockpit, supervising the overall condition of the Ghost.

Ezra pulled up on the steering and flipped the freighter around, trying to avoid the shots from the TIEs. He rolled the ship, causing Chopper to slide to the other side of the cockpit, wailing and waving his arms in fury. He activated his magnetic ground lock and fought his way back up to the astromech port.

"Chop, set a course for Yavin 4!" Ezra ordered the droid.

Chopper issued a series of sharp beeps and raised his arms.

"What do you mean, 'the hyperdrive just went offline?' Fix it!" shouted Ezra.

The astromech grumbled and twisted the port clockwise, then counter-clockwise.

Ezra looped the Ghost back around so that they were facing the fighters. Both Sabine and Zeb were able to fire at them, but they effortlessly dodged every blast. They eventually broke formation and scattered themselves around the Super Star Destroyer. The Ghost banked left while Sabine pressed the buttons as fast as she could, spraying the area with red bolts. One of them managed to cripple the wing of a TIE, sending it spinning down toward Rishi. It burned as it entered the atmosphere at such a great speed. Sabine raised her fist in the air and let out a woop of excitement before aiming at the next fighter.

"Chop, you got it?" asked Ezra, his attention still fixed on flying the Ghost. He had no idea how Hera could fly the freighter so effortlessly.

Chopper made a low series of beeps. Ezra sighed and pointed the ship the opposite direction the Super Star Destroyer was headed.

"What's the problem?" Zeb yelled from the dorsal turret.

"They're jamming our hyperspace abilities! We have to get out of range of the Star Destroyer in order for it to work!" shouted Ezra.

He put the throttle to full and soared out to the edges of Rishi's atmosphere.

* * *

"Sir, they're getting away!" Admiral Rixon announced.

Vader watched the Ghost zoom past the command center. "Seize them by tractor beam," he ordered.

"It's been damaged, sir," said a commander. "We can't activate it."

Vader stared off over the curve of Rishi's surface. "Let them go. When they contact their Rebel base, another one of our cruisers will intercept the transmission."

* * *

Chopper whirred happily, notifying Ezra that the hyperdrive was back online. He slammed the lever to the console, sending the Ghost into hyperspace. They were headed straight for Yavin 4. The crew had all agreed that it was a good idea to notify the Rebels about their predicament.

"Senator Mothma," said Ezra to the hologram. "We're _really_ sorry for running off, but something terrible has happened."

"Apology accepted, Commander Bridger," replied Senator Mothma. "Tell me, what happened?"

"Hera—I mean, General Syndulla has been captured by the Empire."

Mothma's slightly shocked expression wasn't something the crew had seen before, but she quickly composed it. "How did this happen?"

"Vader boarded our ship above Rishi," said Sabine. "He held us back using the Force; we couldn't do anything."

"She was about to get away, but Vader stopped her, too," Ezra added.

Mothma sighed inwardly. "When was this? And how far along is she?"

"Just a few minutes ago," answered Sabine. "And maybe about seven months."

"Oh, dear," the senator said under her breath. "I'll—sure t—notif—r fleet." The hologram began to flicker; the transmission seemed to be interrupted.

 _Oh, no,_ Sabine thought. She quickly ended the transmission.

"What?" Zeb asked.

Sabine slowly turned her head to face him, making direct eye contact. She could see the concerned expression on his face beginning to mirror her own.

"The Empire intercepted the transmission."


	7. Chapter 7

Hera nearly fainted as she could feel the tip of the blade in the skin over her sternum. She glanced down at her tunic, stained a deep red around the knife. She made her breathing shallow, as not to drive the tip in further. Her eyes drifted over to Thrawn.

"General, where is your Rebel base?" he asked.

Hera choked back a whimper. "No... I... won't tell you," she said through gritted teeth. Her hands clenched into fists.

Thrawn reached for the control panel again and twisted something slowly. Not a second later, the knife began to twist, still partly submerged in Hera's chest. She could feel tissue stretch and tear and watched as the blood stain darkened and expanded more quickly. She suppressed the volume of her scream, which came out as a loud growl. The blade stopped at about 90 degrees.

"I will ask once again: Where is your Rebel base?" insisted Thrawn. He got up and stood calmly in front of her, his hands behind his back.

The burning pain of Hera's wound yanked tears from her eyes. She glared at Thrawn and sucked in air through her teeth. "No," she said firmly.

The admiral brought one of his hands up to his chin and glanced at the star map, then back at his prisoner. Her breast was colored a deep scarlet, moving up and down in quick, shallow breaths. His gaze slowly shifted down to her swollen midsection, remembering to be careful not to bleed her out. He walked back over to the control panel, pressed a button, and the knife retreated back into the ceiling. Hera let out a sigh of relief and took several deep breaths.

"This is your last chance, General," said Thrawn.

Hera huffed. "I will _never_ give it away." She gazed at Thrawn defiantly.

Thrawn maintained his eye contact as her glare grew more intense. "Are you sure?" he asked before he pulled out a datapad from his pocket. He pressed his finger near the top of it, and a pulsing drone came from behind Hera. The sound grew louder as it approached her left side.

 _Oh, no,_ Hera thought. _Not the interrogator droid._ It came to rest a couple meters in front of her.

"Sure as death."

"Have it your way, then." Thrawn slid his finger from the bottom to the top of the datapad, causing the interrogator to move closer, its needle pointing toward her. The needle was centimeters from her neck as Hera relaxed her muscles. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pinch, but then squeezed them shut; the needle was much bigger than she'd expected. It seemed as if she could feel each layer of flesh give way as the needle made its way to one of her main arteries.

Once the droid was done pumping drugs into her system, it slowly removed the needle from her neck. The whole left side of Hera's neck pulsed a few times before she began to feel lightheaded. The sound of the droid seemed to grow quieter and lose its depth. She looked back up at Thrawn, still standing before her. He moved his mouth and made noise, but Hera couldn't tell what he was saying.

"What'd y'say?" slurred Hera, squinting her eyes, trying to focus on Thrawn. It was suddenly very bright in the room.

"I said, 'Care to tell me where your Rebel base is?'" he answered.

His voice seemed flat and metallic, and Hera only realized what he said a second after he said it. Her forehead began to feel as if someone were pressing hands against it.

"My base?" Hera chuckled quietly. "No, thanks."

Thrawn sighed. "Syndulla, I grow tired of asking: where is your Rebel base?" he asked intently.

"It's... in the-"

She felt the baby stir and looked down at her belly. _You'll be okay, love,_ she thought. She wished Kanan were there; now was the time when she needed him most.

 _Wait a second..._

"Thrawn... what'd you drug me with?" Hera asked with a concerned tone. "Will it hurt my baby?" Her eyes widened a little.

"Not to worry, General," answered Thrawn. "I gave you such a low dose of Rynalka X that it should bring no harm to your child."

 _"Should?"_ Hera scowled. "Y'mean there's a chance?!" she shouted, her concern quickly turning to anger. Her words didn't feel like her own. They seemed to all come together after she said them.

"A _miniscule_ chance," Thrawn said.

"How _dare_ you," snarled Hera, "for putting Kanan's baby at risk. And I swear I won't tell you _anything._ "

"Very well, then." The admiral unlatched his comlink and spoke into it. Hera had no idea what he said, but before she knew it, she was being taken out of the chamber, handcuffed, and held by a stormtrooper at either of her shoulders. She tried to shield her eyes from the brightness of the hall, but her hands were locked behind her back.

They approached a short hallway with a series of doors. The troopers opened the first one, unlatched her cuffs, and shoved her inside the tiny cell. They tossed in a neatly folded stack of orange fabric before shutting the door.

Hera walked over to the pile of orange and slowly bent down to pick it up. It had numbers printed on it: 024-601. She stood up and tried to ignore her back tightening, then held up the prison uniform in front of her.

 _Perfect. It's even in the right size,_ she thought and chuckled a bit.

The Twi'lek woman began to remove her blood-stained clothing and set it on the bench beside her. The knife wound was still bleeding profusely. She wadded up the sleeve of her shirt and pressed it to her chest. She sat on the bench in her undertunic for a while, further staining her shirt while applying pressure to her wound. She wondered if the Empire ever did laundry.

Once the bleeding had slowed down and the effects of Rynalka X had mostly worn off, Hera folded her undertunic into a band she could tie around her chest and under her shoulders. Then, she began putting on the orange prison uniform. She was nearly finished fastening it in the back when she heard something. She listened for it again while adjusting the front of the uniform, but she heard nothing. A few seconds later, very quietly, she heard three taps against the wall of her cell.

 _Andrexis,_ Hera remembered. She listened carefully to the soft noise and began to translate.

 _A... R... E... Y... O... U... O... K... A...Y... ?._

She placed her left hand gently on her belly and brought her right hand up to the wall.

 _I hope so,_ Hera answered. _Got stabbed._

 _Heard screaming,_ Andrexis tapped.

 _Tell you about it later._ Hera yawned. _Going to nap._

There was no more tapping from Andrexis. She sat down on the bench, swung her legs up on it, and laid down on her right shoulder, using her bloody clothes to cushion her head.

* * *

A few hours later, Hera was roused by the sound of her cell door opening. She raised her head and sat up, staring up at the two troopers.

"Come on," one ordered. "It's time for your midday meal."

 _Midday?_ Hera thought. _I was about to eat my evening meal before I got captured. How long did I sleep? I must still be on Yavin 4 time._

She got up and followed the troopers and the other prisoners out of her cell and down the long corridors. She glanced over her shoulder at Andrexis, who was looking straight ahead. His brown eyes darted over toward her for a split second by the time Hera had looked away; her attention was dragged to the strange, fur-covered humanoid a few rows in front of her. He reminded her of Zeb, to some extent, with his large pointed ears on the sides of his head and his backwards-articulated legs. She could hear his claws click on the metal floor each time he took a step.

They reached the mostly empty dining area, with only a few other prisoners scattered at different tables. Hera recognized some of them from her prison shuttle. The stormtroopers corralled her unit into a single-file line as it waited at one end of the serving table.

When she was finally close enough, Hera grabbed a tray and began walking slowly down the long table, casting an eye over the uncovered containers of food. There was a worker at each, scooping out meager portions and putting them onto the other prisoners' trays. She stopped at the first worker, stationed at a container of protein patties. He placed one of them on Hera's tray before she moved on to the next server.

 _Reminds me of secondary school,_ Hera thought as a scoop of some sort of root vegetable paste was placed on her tray. She continued down the line and reached an open crate of fresh...

 _Meilooruns!_ Hera's face lit up. _My favorite!_ She put one next to her drink and scouted out a place to sit. She selected a seat near the end of a table close to the edge of the room. She began eating the protein patty first, saving the meiloorun for last. Andrexis saw her and made his way over to her table.

"May I sit here?" he asked.

"Sure," Hera answered. He sat down opposite from her.

"Andrexis," he introduced himself. "Just Drex for short." He held out his right hand over the table.

Hera took it in hers and shook it, figuring out that she was only pretending to introduce herself. "I'm-"

"Hera Syndulla, I know."

"Nice to meet you, Andrexis."

"Your name is everywhere on holoboards and in advertisements. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you," replied Hera. The thought of the entire galaxy knowing about her pregnancy was a little disturbing.

They ate for a short while, not conversing. The furry humanoid they saw earlier approached the end of their table. His long, dark brown dreadlocks rested on his chest and his golden-yellow eyes with vertical pupils darted across the room. His caramel-colored fur shook when he walked.

"Greetings, General," he said in his deep, gravelly voice. His mouth and nose moved like an animal's when he spoke.

Hera, a bit taken aback by his regal appearance and knowledge of her title, smiled awkwardly. "Greetings."

He held out a clawed, striped paw. "I'm Kna'tzhuk."

"Hera Syndulla." The rough pads on his paw felt entirely different from Zeb's. She could feel him being careful not to puncture her skin with his long, black claws.

They took a pause to eat some more before there was a shift in the conversation.

"General, you have a ship, right?" Andrexis asked in a low voice. He hoped his words would be masked by the other prisoners conversing.

"Yes. My crew has it, hopefully."

"Is there any way you could contact them?"

Hera sighed. "No. The troopers destroyed my comlink."

"That makes it a little harder," said Andrexis. "How well do you know your way around a Star Destroyer?"

"Pretty well; I've been on several." Hera picked up her Meiloorun and slowly took a bite, savoring the sweet juice which overwhelmed her tastebuds.

"So you would know that there's a docking bay relatively near the interrogation chambers?"

"Yes. That's the one that we came in."

"That's our best possible way of escaping. The only problem is the amount of security on that stretch of the corridor," stated Andrexis.

"If, somehow, one of us were to create a distraction, one big enough to draw security away from their posts," Kna'tzhuk began, "We would have a chance to run through unnoticed. Almost."

"And what if they _do_ notice us?" asked Hera.

"Then we run as quickly as we can to the docking bay," replied Kna'tzhuk.

"They'd just alert forces in the docking bay. We'd be done for."

"What if I stole an officer's uniform from the laundry room on the same floor?" said Andrexis. "I could pretend to escort you to one of the shuttles."

"That could work," said Hera, "But there's a chance that the shuttle would be transporting troops, not prisoners."

"Then what exactly are we going to escape the Star Destroyer with?" asked Andrexis.

"Our best bet is a TIE fighter."

"Can you even fly one of those?"

"If I can fly a freighter like an A-wing, I can fly a TIE fighter."


	8. Chapter 8

The Ghost crew stared at the now empty holotable.

"What do you mean, the transmission was intercepted? How do you know it was the Empire?" Zeb inquired.

"I don't," Sabine answered. "We just have to assume it was to be safe."

"What if it isn't?" Ezra asked hopefully.

"Well, then, we got _really_ lucky. But, judging by the way things have been going, it's probably the Empire," Sabine stated.

"So, what's the plan?" Zeb asked.

"Lie low, what we've been doing for the past three months. Head back to Yavin. And _n_ _o_ more transmissions," she ordered.

* * *

After just a couple hours of travel, the Ghost emerged from hyperspace. Ezra put the nearly-finished Lothcat plush next to him and got up from his seat in the lounge, his blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. He climbed the ladder up to the cockpit, but when he approached it, he didn't see a planet. He noticed something flashing red on the console.

 _Fuel low._

"Oh— _Kriff!"_ Ezra swore. "Sabine?" He called.

Sabine dropped the blanket she was making for the baby and came running from her cabin, hearing the urgent tone in his voice.

"What?" she said.

"We're almost out of fuel," said Ezra. " _And_ we're in the middle of space."

"I thought we had some more in storage," said Sabine. "Zeb, did you happen to see any more fuel canisters?" she shouted.

Zeb was almost finished building the frame of the bed; there was only one last leg he had to put on. He held the frame and the leg, attempting to insert a screw to lock them together.

"Kind of in the middle of something right now!" he yelled as he struggled to keep the two parts together while he positioned the screw.

"Zeb!"

"Okay, okay, let me get this screw in..." he reached for the automatic screwdriver.

About a minute later, Sabine and Ezra heard a shout from the back of the ship.

"No, there aren't any!" said Zeb before making his way toward the cockpit.

Ezra sighed. "Why didn't we get some on Rishi?"

"I was planning on it, but then the Empire showed up," Zeb said as he sat down in one of the passenger seats.

"Okay," began Sabine. "We need to find out where we are and how far away the nearest system is." She activated the navicomputer on the wall of the cockpit. It started to scan the area, finding nothing nearby. It automatically expanded its search, looking for everything within ten parsecs.

"There are several systems in our area. Looks like there's the Teth system, Bakura system, Kalee system, Weik system... Oh, and one more: the Branth system.

"No," Zeb and Ezra answered simultaneously. Branth, the Empire-controlled industrial planet with one of the largest imperial prisons, was the last place the fugitives needed to go.

"Which one's the closest?" asked Ezra.

"Probably Branth, next would be Weik," replied Sabine as she increased the magnification on the star map. "Branth is about... six parsecs, and Weik is eight."

"We're never going to travel eight parsecs with almost no fuel. Probably not even six," Zeb muttered as he glanced out of the cockpit's viewport before he directed his attention back to Sabine.

"Well, we're not going to just sit here while Hera's in prison, probably being tortured by that son-of-a-Bantha Thrawn," Sabine said angrily.

"Wait..." Ezra trailed off. He had his eyes closed as he reached out in the Force. He could feel the Force signatures of the nearby stars, but nothing else. He waited a few minutes for something, anything, but he sensed nothing. "No..."

"What is it?" Sabine asked, her interest piqued.

"I can't feel anything... I was hoping for purgill, or a ship, or anything besides stars."

"Hey Chop, how much fuel do we have?" she yelled to the droid, who was in Hera's cabin.

Chopper rolled into the cockpit and pulled up the diagnostics of the Ghost from the astromech port. He made a few low beeps.

"Only about an eighth of a tank," Zeb said.

"If we made one short burst in the direction of Weik, then it might be able to get us there," suggested Ezra.

"It'll take weeks," Sabine added. "And we don't exactly _have_ weeks. Hera's just over a month away from her due date, and we _need_ to get her by the time the baby comes."

"How long would it take to get to Branth?"

"Still weeks, but it's about our only option," Sabine sighed. She looked down to Chopper. "Guess we'll have to paint you again, Chop."

Chopper grumbled and shook his head, waving his arms about.

"Hey, this is for Hera."

The droid seemed to sigh before turning back to the astromech port. Once the ship started moving, Zeb stood up from his seat.

"Anyway, I'm going to get back to building this bed." He strode out of the cockpit and back to his cabin.

Sabine turned back to Ezra. "Well," she began, "We'll hope for the best."

* * *

A few hours later, Ezra had finished the Lothcat plush and decided to go the cockpit to meditate. He pulled his legs up on the chair he sat upon and closed his eyes, reaching out in the Force, loosely focusing on the stars' signatures and their bonds. He could feel a slight presence of Kanan, which made him feel a bit more secure. His breathing deepened as he relaxed further, his mind wandering throughout the Force. Then, he felt a tiny ripple in the distance grow closer... closer... _closer..._

"Partisan One to the Ghost—can you hear us?" The comlink resting on the console shattered the serene silence. It beeped and then channeled the voice Ezra couldn't quite recognize.

 _Partisan? Sounds familiar..._ He swiveled his chair, picked up the comlink and put his thumb over the button.

 _Wait,_ he remembered. _No transmissions._

"Partisan One to the Ghost—we've received your transmission and have come to help," the voice said.

 _This is a trap._

Sabine had heard the comlink and came into the cockpit with Chopper, suspicious of the unknown cell. "Partisan One? Never heard of it."

"I think these might be Rebels..." Ezra wondered out loud.

Chopper directed his visual sensors to the viewport and issued a low whirr. He shook his head back and forth.

"They're not part of our fleet," Sabine stated as she followed Chopper's gaze at the dusty, worn ship that had just emerged from hyperspace. "Should we trust them?" she asked.

"Partisan One to the Ghost—can you hear us?"

Sabine and Ezra held eye contact for a short while before Sabine nodded at him. Ezra pressed the button.

"This is Spectre Six, I hear you," he responded.

"Excellent. This is Saw Gerrera. I've come to help you rescue General Syndulla."

Ezra held his hand over the microphone on the comlink. "Saw? Why is he helping us?" he whispered to Sabine. She shrugged, not knowing what to say.

"Thanks. We're kind of in a situation right now; we're out of fuel."

"We'll come in for docking and bring you some fuel canisters," Saw declared. Ezra pressed the button again, ending the transmission.

Sabine raised an eyebrow. "This is _really_ weird."

"Chop, you stay here," Ezra ordered. He instinctively unlatched his lightsaber from his belt and grabbed Kanan's blaster from his cabin. Zeb looked up from what he was building and followed Ezra out of their cabin, bo-rifle at the ready. Sabine holstered both of her blasters, one hand resting on each. They waited near the airlock as they heard metal shift and latch onto the Ghost. The door finally opened, and there entered Saw and two of his crew members, each pushing two fuel canisters.

Sabine took the fuel canisters from the man on the right. "Thank you," she said to him before taking them to the engine room. She checked them over once, just to make sure the canisters didn't have any damage and that it was the correct kind of fuel.

"How long have you been hiding?" Saw asked Ezra and Zeb. His voice didn't sound nearly as wheezy on the comlink.

"A little over three months," Ezra stated. "We were just headed back to Yavin 4."

"I see," said Saw. "We'll come with you."

"Sure, if you want."

Sabine had arrived back by the airlock and turned to Zeb.

"Aren't these guys terrorists?" she whispered.

"Yeah," Zeb said quietly. "Remember that time on Geonosis?"

Sabine looked over at the men and asked, "So, why are you helping us?" as politely as possible.

Saw unlatched a long, clear tube with a metal mask on the end from his chestplate and put it to his face. He breathed deeply a couple of times and then put it back.

"Anything to make the Empire hurt. We were going to rescue another prisoner, too. He should be in the same unit as General Syndulla."

"What's his name?" asked Zeb.

The man on the left of Saw spoke. "Andrexis. He's my brother."

Ezra nodded. "Then, let's do it. Let's make them pay." He shook hands with Saw before he and his crew went back to their ship. From the cockpit viewport, Ezra looked over at Saw in Partisan One, then they both made the jump to hyperspace.


	9. Chapter 9

The guards escorted Hera back to the cell after her evening meal. They pushed her into the tiny room and slammed the door shut. She could hear their boots echo in the corridor. She walked slowly over to the bench and carefully sat down, then tugged off her boots and surveyed her swollen feet and ankles with a sigh. She unbuttoned the front of her uniform to check her wound.

The bleeding had finally stopped, and her undertunic was stained a vivid red-brown. She could smell a rusty scent. Hera untied the undertunic from her chest and set it next to her, then looked back down at her front. The scab was about half the size of a credit, and it stung horribly. She gritted her teeth and took a few deep breaths, wondering if Thrawn had laced the knife with chemicals.

Hera peeled the uniform down to her hips and tried to ignore the pain of the wound as she lay on her side. She still felt pretty lightheaded after losing all of that blood. She exhaled slowly and began to relax, bringing her hand up to rest on her warm stomach.

The baby shifted a little, briefly touching Hera's hand. She smiled sweetly and lazily ran her hand up her belly.

"Hey, there," murmured Hera as her fingers wandered back down to her navel. "How are you?"

Not expecting a response, she moved her hand back up again.

"I can't wait to meet you, dear," she said tenderly. "I'm really excited."

She remained silent for a few moments, mindlessly stroking her belly.

"I wish your father could be here with us," Hera sighed. "He's a wonderful man, and he loves you very much."

Some of her favorite memories with Kanan replayed in her mind, like the time he and Hera danced together in the lounge to an energetic Twi'leki folk tune, long before the rest of the crew joined. She remembered spinning around, grinning, and only seeing Kanan's face clearly out of the blur of their surroundings, occasionally spotting an orange droid head in the corner. She had been the one leading, as her husband had never even heard of a kallin-step.

The corners of Hera's mouth quirked upward a bit as she lost herself in the lovely memory. Then she thought of Sabine, Zeb, and Ezra and how they each were willing to help and genuinely cared for her.

"And you'll get to meet Sabine," said Hera to the baby. "She loves art, especially painting; she even painted your room. She loves you, too."

"So does uncle Zeb," she continued. "He'll protect you until the day you die."

"And Ezra's going to teach you the ways of the Force, so you can become a Jedi, like your father."

Saying this, Hera wondered if the baby could see, hear, or feel Kanan through the Force, which made her smile further.

"You'll even get to meet Chopper, our droid. I think you'll like him."

The baby stretched its arms and legs, and Hera looked down at her belly, glancing at the growing stretch marks. She yawned, realizing how tired she really was.

"I love you too, dear," said the woman as she began to doze.

After a few minutes, Hera was startled awake by the baby's heels digging into her ribcage.

"Ow," she said sharply. She stretched out her body to avoid any more discomfort, and suddenly realized she needed to use the head. At least it distracted her from the sting of her wound.

 _Only a month more,_ thought Hera as she closed her eyes again, trying to ignore the stirring of her restless child.

But before she could relax any further, Hera's eyes snapped open.

 _Ci'el chod, it_ is _only a month until my due date._

Hera rolled over so that she was lying on her back, feeling the weight of the baby sink into her body. She moved both of her hands up to touch her round belly, realizing how much she hadn't prepared for caring for a helpless baby during a galactic war, much less for the birth. She hadn't even thought of names yet.

Hera hadn't really planned to have a baby, but there wasn't anything she could do about it now. Besides, it was Kanan's baby, and she loved him and missed him with an ache that wouldn't go away. She desperately wished he were there with her to experience the wonder of a whole new life growing inside her.

She still couldn't quite believe that she and Kanan had actually conceived, having been told by a medic on Atollon that human-Twi'lek conceptions were extraordinarily rare. Just a few weeks after that, Hera remembered staring in disbelief at the two lines on the pregnancy test she had just taken. She'd sat in the cramped head of the Ghost for a while, not knowing what to do with it, and occasionally looking down at her abdomen. Eventually, she began to accept the fact that she was pregnant, and she immediately left the washroom and went to tell Kanan.

Staring at the ceiling, Hera reminisced about the hours she spent in her cabin searching the galactic data files for anything about pregnancy. She explored everything from the first few moments of conception to labor, and found every bit of it fascinating. But, unfortunately, she didn't get the chance to look at any files about the eighth and final month of a Twi'lek pregnancy.

Hera exhaled gustily through her mouth. "Oh, boy," she sighed. The next few weeks were going to be exhausting, unpredictable, and likely very uncomfortable.

Her mind wandered to the topic of labor. She realized that she wouldn't have anyone supporting her through it, if she didn't get out of prison in time. Giving birth in a tiny prison cell wasn't exactly anything Hera ever wanted to do. She just wanted to go home, back to the Ghost, back to her crew, her family.

But then, she recalled what Thrawn had said:

 _"'Unfortunately, I was given strict orders to keep you alive, or at least until you deliver Kanan Jarrus's child.'"_

 _Why does the Empire want my baby_ alive _?_ thought Hera. _What will they do to him or her? What will they do to me?_

She decided to go over what Ezra had said:

 _"'Kanan told me to tell you that the baby is Force-sensitive...'"_

 _"'We need to leave... Vader can sense the baby...'"_

The bounty on her head was doubled, and it was strange that Vader himself boarded the Ghost, instead of just sending troopers... _Obviously he was after-_

Suddenly, Hera's face was contorted with fear. There was really only one reason why Vader would want her child.

 _Vader wants the baby as a Sith apprentice... doesn't he?_

Hera dreaded the thought of her baby being torn from her arms and made into a powerful weapon of evil. He or she would only be used for the massacre of innocent people, and then thrown away like an old power converter.

But that was _not_ how it was going to go. Hera was determined to not let that happen, and she was certain that Kanan would not want his child to be turned to the dark side.

She was going to escape with Andrexis and Kna'tzhuk, or be broken out by her crew, whichever happened first. Or if neither, she would do everything she could to protect her child, even if it meant sacrificing herself.

"Don't be afraid, dear," she said softly. "There's always hope."

* * *

Vader entered his private chamber, his mechanical breath echoing off the walls. He slowly approached the holotable, stopped, and knelt before it, awaiting his master's answer.

A hooded figure appeared in the hologram, illuminating the room with a dim blue light. His beaked nose and cleft chin protruded from the hood.

"Darth Vader," he announced.

"Yes, my Lord," Vader responded, still kneeling at the holotable. "I bring news of a potential apprentice."

"An apprentice?" The emperor bared his yellow teeth and began to chuckle. "Well done... tell me more."

Vader stood up and faced the hologram. "The child is of the Jedi Kanan Jarrus, and I sense it is very strong with the Force."

"Excellent," he said, still grinning. "Once his training is complete, we shall unleash his power on the Rebel band, and restore order across the galaxy."

"It has yet to be born. We're keeping Syndulla on the _Chimaera_ until she bears the child."

"Good, good... I leave you in charge of her, but inform me the moment the child is born."

"Yes, my Lord."

The hologram went dark, leaving Vader in the silent blackness of the chamber. His twisted thoughts were exultant. After years of failed apprentices, he finally had a chance at a powerful one.


	10. Chapter 10

The two Rebel vessels emerged from hyperspace above Yavin 4. As Sabine transmitted the clearance codes, Ezra guided the Ghost down to the surface and circled the tall ziggurats protruding from the treetops, waiting for the spaceport to be clear for landing.

The troopers down below spotted the unfamiliar ship trailing the Ghost. Most of them either reached for their blasters or ran to the nearest anti-spacecraft gun. Sabine saw the commotion and quickly pulled out her comlink and called for Commander Alaina.

"Commander, we come in peace," said Sabine.

"Are you sure?" Alaina answered. "That second ship's not ours," she added.

"We had to work together in desperation. Partisan One's crew has promised not to hurt anyone."

"Very well, then. I'll call off the troopers."

About a minute later, the ground forces had put their blasters back in their holsters and then made sure two landing pads were clear. Once they were, Ezra decreased the Ghost's speed, lowered the landing gear, and hovered above the landing pad. The whole ship jolted when it touched the ground; he had set it down too quickly, and he wasn't quite centered on the pad. He tried to shift the Ghost two meters to the left, cringing at the sound of metal scraping against the ground.

 _Hera's going to kill me,_ he thought.

Meanwhile, Partisan One had made a perfect landing. Saw looked over at the Ghost with a look of concern on his face.

Ezra turned off the engines and met Sabine, Zeb, and Saw and his crew outside of the boarding ramp with Chopper close behind him. They all proceeded into the base, catching a few concerned looks from some of Hera's closer friends.

"Oh, Karabast, I hope we don't get arrested," Zeb muttered.

"Yeah," Ezra agreed. "But at least we did it for the safety of the base and Hera's baby."

"Sure, until she got captured," Zeb added.

They entered the command center where Senator Mothma and several other Generals awaited them.

"Commander Bridger, Sabine Wren, and Garazeb Orellios," Mothma began sternly. "You have been absent without leave for quite some time."

"Senator..." said Sabine. "We're really sorry for leaving without permission—"

"Yes. Why did you leave?"

"General Syndulla's baby is strong with the Force," answered Ezra. "I sensed it from the time Kanan died."

"Ah, so we'll have another Jedi? Wonderful." Senator Mothma smiled a bit, but her expression quickly turned serious. "That still does not justify your absence."

"We know," Sabine said. "We left because we were afraid that Vader could sense where her child was, and that he would give away the location of the base."

"I'm very glad that that did not happen," said Mothma, "But I cannot let you off that easily." She sighed. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ground you."

Sabine's heart skipped a beat. "How long?" she inquired hesitantly.

"Four weeks."

Sabine and Zeb stood in shock, while Ezra nodded solemnly.

"We understand. Thank you," said Ezra.

"And who have you brought with you from your little adventure?" asked Mothma, craning her neck a little to see behind Zeb.

Saw stepped forward, his metal feet clanging against the ground. He tried to contain his hostility toward her. "Saw Gerrera," he said calmly. "This is my crew, Edrio, Codo, and Fenerell." He gestured to each of the men.

"Saw?" Mothma's eyebrows furrowed.

"Senator, he comes in peace," Sabine explained. "His ship intercepted our transmission and he and his crew came to help us when we ran out of fuel."

"He's also going to help us save General Syndulla," added Zeb.

Mothma's eyes were fixed on Saw. "You'll have to stay in your ship; we have no more room in the base."

"I understand, Senator," he said, holding her gaze.

Mothma turned back to the Ghost crew. "And as for you, Bridger, Sabine, Zeb—while you're grounded, you'll be doing maintenance."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Ezra. He led the others out of the command center. They marched silently through the dirty, narrow corridors, not looking at each other. Sabine made one quick glance at Ezra, then turned to Saw. He nodded, then the group ducked into a nearby storage bay.

"Four weeks?!" hissed Zeb. "Is she serious?!"

"Hey, be happy she didn't arrest us," replied Sabine. Frankly, she was surprised Mothma hadn't.

"But we'll never get Hera before the baby comes!" Zeb whined. Chopper caterwauled and spun his head around and waved his arms, picking up on the Lasat's feelings.

"We won't with an attitude like that," Ezra cut in. "If we're going to come up with a plan, we all need to be calm."

Zeb sighed. "I guess you're right," he grumbled.

"So, what do we know?" Ezra asked, taking charge.

"Hera told me she was due in just about four weeks," said Sabine. "And that was before she was captured."

"We have no idea where that Dreadnaught she's on is," added Zeb. "It could be anywhere in the galaxy."

"Okay, that makes our odds of getting her in time _really_ slim," Ezra said. He was worried about her being locked up in a tiny cell, mourning the loss of her beloved, the imminent agony of childbirth in an imperial prison awaiting her like a hungry Sarlacc with its jaws open.

"We could steal imperial files," suggested Saw. "Find the information on the entire fleet."

"That might work," said Sabine. "But how would we even get them, and how would we know which prison unit is where?"

"We'd do it together," replied Saw. "We'd go as a team and infiltrate a Star Destroyer, steal the files, and get back to base safely."

Zeb shook his head. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, there are a _lot_ more steps to this than just walking up to the Empire and stealing information."

"Zeb's right," said Sabine. "We'd have to get past security somehow, and find a port for Chop that wasn't locked."

"That would take time," Ezra sighed. "Time that we don't have. There has to be another way."

Sabine sat down on a crate. "I hate to say this, but we might have to sacrifice speed for a detailed plan that has a chance of working." Her heart sank to her stomach at the thought of Hera having to give birth alone to the baby they were all incredibly excited to meet.

"What if you snuck out of the base at night?" said Fenerell, his arms crossed and his dark brown eyes fixed on the Ghost crew. "You'd have plenty of time."

"Hey, that's an idea," Zeb commented.

"Yeah," added Ezra. "We could get the information _and_ save Hera in time. We'd just have to get past the nighttime guards."

"And disobey orders _again?_ " Sabine said. " _And_ risk being kicked out of the Rebellion?"

"But what are you doing in the Rebellion?" asked Saw. "Are you fighting for what's important to you? Or are you fighting for what's important to the Rebellion?" Saw unlatched the tube from his chestplate and breathed through it a couple of times.

"Both, I guess," replied Ezra.

"Syndulla is important to you, is she not?"

"Very," answered Sabine.

"And she is important to the Rebellion, is she not?"

"She's the best pilot in the fleet, probably the galaxy, too," said Zeb.

"Then what are you waiting for?" asked Saw. "Why should Senator Mothma punish you for bringing back an important asset to the Rebellion? Why should you wait four weeks to save her when she needs you most? The time to fight is now!"

Chopper whirred happily, inspired by what Saw had said.

"He's got a good point," Zeb said.

"Then let's do it," Ezra replied.

"Wait!" ordered Sabine. "Think about this. Would Hera want us to risk our place in the Rebellion more than we already have? Would Hera want us to desert a cause that helps the whole galaxy just to save her?"

There was a heavy silence. Saw's brows drew together in an angry frown as he stared at the floor.

"You're right, Sabine," answered Ezra slowly. He turned to Saw. "I'm sorry, but we have to stay here; it's what Hera would want."

"Alright, then. Serve out your punishment."

"We'll have to find another way to save Hera," Zeb reminded the group.

"We could go steal the files and transmit them to you," Saw suggested.

"That's a great idea," said Zeb. "Would Chop be able to hold all that information?"

"No way," replied Sabine. "His memory couldn't handle it." Chopper grumbled resentfully and shook his head.

Ezra patted him. "Sorry, buddy." He turned back to Saw's crew. "We could still use him for communication and transmissions, though."

"But how will we get the data to you?" asked Saw.

Zeb, Ezra, and Sabine fell silent again. Suddenly, Sabine stood back up from her crate.

"Unless they've changed the schedule, there's a rotation of the night guards' shifts at 2300, and there's about a five-minute period where there's no one at the command center."

"Perfect," said Saw. "Contact us before you sneak in so we know when to send the data."

"Great. More rules broken," muttered Zeb.

"No one has to know, Zeb," said Ezra. "I'll make sure of it."

"So I guess we have a plan," said Sabine. "You guys want to get a head start?"

"We're on it, Sabine," said Saw.

Sabine watched Saw and his crew duck back out into the corridor. For the first time since Hera was captured, she felt a tiny flicker of hope.


	11. Chapter 11

After realizing Vader sought her child to apprentice him to the dark side, Hera experienced what seemed to be the longest night of her life. She had gotten absolutely no sleep, worrying deeply about the baby's safety. She thought of ways she could protect him, but she stood little chance against a Sith lord. The only way he could be safe was to be inside Hera's womb.

 _He won't be in there for much longer, either,_ she thought. She knew that she only had four weeks to escape alive.

Hera also knew that she'd be utterly miserable when the morning came, but the thought of her baby, _Kanan's_ baby, being raised as a child of the dark side gnawed at her mind all night. For once, she actually feared the Empire. _Truly_ feared it.

But her worries weren't the only thing that kept Hera up. She rolled over to her other shoulder for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. She had yet to find a comfortable position that would satisfy the baby enough for him to stop kicking and go to sleep. Her gut and lower rib cage ached from the random impacts. Hera slowly rubbed her belly up and down, hoping to soothe him.

"Please, dear," Hera said gently as she felt him begin to squirm again. "Go to sleep." She arched her back and stretched out her legs, which made him stop for a moment.

The relief was only temporary; as soon as she relaxed, the baby had its feet pressing quite hard against her diaphragm. She gasped a little, wondering when she could actually fall asleep, or if she would.

Hera had never felt more isolated from her family than that grim night. She longed to see Sabine, Zeb, Ezra, and Chopper. Even Kanan's presence was totally absent, or so it seemed. She missed feeling him near her throughout her pregnancy; it made her happy, thinking about him bonding with their child. It still made her grieve, though, thinking about how Kanan would never be able to touch or hold or kiss his son or daughter. She hoped, that if she couldn't see him, their baby could.

Hera wondered if her crew had gone back to Yavin 4. They were running low on fuel when she was captured, so she hoped they weren't stranded in space somewhere.

 _They're probably grounded, then, if they went back._ She sighed, her hope for her child's future slowly dwindling.

 _What time is it, anyway?_ She had lost all sense of time after being captured, and there was no time-tracker anywhere on the ship anywhere that she could see. With her luck, it was probably two minutes before wake-up. She closed her eyes, but still couldn't manage to fall asleep.

* * *

The light from the corridor finally ended the tedium an hour later. Hera blinked a couple of times and realized she had a splitting headache.

 _Oh, man,_ she thought, squinting at the bright rectangle at the entrance of her cell. _I really need some caf._

The waiting guards signaled her to follow them, but she wasn't paying attention to what they said. Before she knew it, she was with her unit heading to the mess deck. Hera felt like she wasn't really conscious, like her body was moving autonomously. She saw a blob of orange in the periphery with a dark blob on top who might have been Andrexis, but she wasn't really sure. She didn't have enough energy to turn her head.

Hera grabbed a tray without realizing it and followed the monotonous sequence of getting food. The lights in the mess seemed impossibly bright, and she strained to see either Andrexis or Kna'tzhuk at a table. Someone waved a big, dark brown paw in the air; she assumed it was Kna'tzhuk, and walked toward him. She slumped onto the bench, trying not to think about how swollen she was.

"Hey, Hera, how'd you sleep?" said Andrexis.

Hera groaned. "There _was_ no sleep," she slurred, looking down at her food.

"Why not?"

"I've been worried," she sighed. "About him..." She put her hand on her belly for a moment.

"Why is that?" asked Kna'tzhuk.

The Twi'lek woman still stared at her food, picking at it with her fork. "I think... I think I've figured out the reason the Empire wants him alive."

Andrexis looked intently at Hera, waiting for her to continue.

She looked up from her tray at the two men. "I think Vader wants my baby as a Sith apprentice."

Shocked, Andrexis and Kna'tzhuk stopped eating and froze. A tense silence fell upon them.

"You're serious?" said Andrexis, wide-eyed.

"Why else am I not dead yet?" Hera answered. "He would have killed me on the spot if he'd wanted to."

"True," Kna'tzhuk said.

"That's going to make the plan more difficult," murmured Andrexis. "They probably have more troopers on the lookout for you, which makes escaping a _korr_ of a lot harder."

" _Chod_. You're right," Hera agreed before taking a few bites of food, and pondering the original plan. "I'll be kept alive for at least the next four weeks, which is when I'm due."

"Good," said Kna'tzhuk in a low voice. "Four weeks is enough time to escape, but we should do it as soon as possible." One of his ears twitched and he took a bite of protein paste, his facial muscles pulling his black whiskers tight against his cheeks.

"I agree," Andrexis said quietly. He leaned in closer to them. "Listen, my brother and I used to work for the Empire," he began. "These big Star Destroyers receive food shipments every two weeks. Huge cargo ships service the fleet. When we were working, we knew the time and cargo bay that every ship would arrive at."

Hera nodded. "So when does the next shipment arrive?"

"Let's see, it's the..." he trailed off. "The last one should have arrived yesterday morning, and next time it should come in the midday, I believe."

"And how are we going to get there?" asked Kna'tzhuk.

"Hmm," Hera murmured. "We could try the original plan, where you steal a uniform and pretend to escort me to the docking bay..."

"That might not work anymore," said Andrexis. "If the whole Star Destroyer is guarding you on Vader's orders, then they'll know that I'm a fake."

"But what if we all wore disguises?"

Hera laughed and shook her head. "There's no way I'm going to fit into anything."

"Here's an idea," whispered Kna'tzhuk. "What if we took out the two troopers guarding our unit and stole their blasters? Then we could make our way toward the docking bay, taking down the troopers in between as quietly as we can."

"That's a start," Andrexis said, pointing to Kna'tzhuk. "The only problem is, if we fail, it's all over. We'd be separated for good—and that would be the best thing that would happen to us."

"Which means no more planning," Hera added. "And no escaping."

"They'd know we're up to something and only increase security further."

"But if we succeed?" Kna'tzhuk insisted. "We get out of here in time, and we can return to our homes."

"We might be able to increase our chance of success if we wait a few hours after the cargo ship arrives," suggested Andrexis. "Those things can take ages to unload."

"It would sure be easier to fly when it's empty," mused Hera. "But should we go while everyone's distracted by unloading? That way we could drop the cargo, leaving the imperials in the hold, and be able to steal the ship for ourselves."

Kna'tzhuk nodded. "Great idea. We could still take blasters for extra defense."

"I could also swipe a helmet and find out when exactly the ship arrives," added Andrexis.

"It sounds like we have a plan. We sneak out after the midday meal on the day it arrives, take out the guards, and make our way unnoticed toward the docking bay."

"Then I'll get the ship ready while you ward off any troopers in the cargo hold," Hera said.

Andrexis nodded, filled with determination. "And what will we do in the meantime?"

"We want to draw as little attention to ourselves as possible. We'll want to sit apart for a while to avoid the Empire thinking we're working together."

"Right. Eventually, they'll let their guard down, and we'll make a quick escape before they realize it."

The troopers across the room began to wave the prisoners over to them at the end of the meal, forming lines. "Come on," they said. "Back to your cells."

"Guess it's time to go," growled Kna'tzhuk. "Until two weeks?"

Hera nodded. "Until two weeks."

They cleared their trays and lined up silently with their unit. They were led back to their cells, shoved in, and left alone. But that wouldn't last for much longer.


	12. Chapter 12

A little more than a week after the Spectres had spoken to Saw, Sabine was cleaning the tile floor in the mess hall after the Rebels' evening meal. She never realized how muddy the dining area really was until she was the one who had to mop it. The mud would never really be gone, but instead was pushed away to the surrounding dirt floor to be tracked in the next morning. She tried to make her job a little more bearable by making art on the dirty canvas of the tile, the mop her paintbrush. A few days ago, she had painted a giant Starbird under the tables, the streaks of soapy water reflecting light differently to make it visible.

Ezra worked alongside her, washing the tables and tidying up the dining area. He grew more frustrated as the day dragged on; something had to be wrong. Tossing down the rag on the next table, he spoke.

"Why hasn't Saw commed us?" he growled. "Where is he?"

"I don't know, Ezra," Sabine answered, her eyes fixed on the floor as she moved the mop in a jagged pattern. "It's been over a week. Something's up."

"He said he'd comm us, but I can't wait anymore!" Ezra aggressively began wiping down the next table.

"Let's just finish our shifts, and then we can talk to him."

Sabine stroked the final details of the Loth wolf she was painting. "There." She stood up straight and arched her back, surveying her work proudly.

Ezra came over next to Sabine and tilted his head. He admired the textures she made using murky water; the wolf's fur seemed to show each individual hair. Its eyes were set on him no matter where he stood.

"Hey, I like this one."

"I should probably clean it up," Sabine sighed. "I don't want to get in trouble." She dunked the mop back in the water bucket and wrung it out.

"Yeah, good point," Ezra agreed. He pursed his lips as he watched Sabine wash her art away, and half-turned as Zeb came up behind them.

"Has Saw contacted us yet?" the Lasat grunted.

"No," Sabine and Ezra said together.

"And where's Chopper?" asked Ezra.

"Over there." Zeb pointed behind him with his thumb.

They peered out into the main hangar toward the sound of Chopper whooping angrily, trying to pry one of the gravity locks off of the Ghost's landing gear. He banged his head against it several times in frustration as the three hurried over.

"Chop, those have been on her for a week," said Sabine, her arms crossed. "We're still not going anywhere. Now come on, let's go inside and to talk to Saw."

The astromech sighed and slowly rolled to the rest of the crew. They all headed into the Ghost and gathered in the lounge. Sabine activated the holotable and Saw appeared.

"Saw, what's going on?" asked Sabine. "Why haven't you called us?"

"You didn't get them?"

"What? Transmissions? How many did you send?"

"Three, right after we blew up a cargo ship after getting the data and a few supplies. We've been waiting for your response for four days, now."

Ezra shifted closer to Zeb. "Wow, he actually waited for something?" he whispered. Zeb suppressed a snicker.

Sabine waved her hand to hush them. "The Empire must have intercepted them. Was your ship moving when you sent them?"

Saw hesitated. "Yes, after the first two."

"It only takes two transmissions from two different places to locate our base!" Sabine raised her voice. "The Empire might know where we are!"

"You're sure you didn't get any of them?"

"Yeah," Ezra replied. "Chopper would've told us."

Chopper let out two low whirs, agreeing with him.

"Unbelievable," Sabine said under her breath. She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose, disgusted by the whole situation. Now, on top of Hera and the baby, she had the whole Rebellion to worry about. She turned her attention back to Saw. "And you didn't think to come back to us?"

"Well, that's sort of the issue," Saw wheezed. "We had to go to the other side of the galaxy to get to the major cargo ship routes. And as you know, we weren't the only non-imperials there."

 _"Pirates,"_ Ezra muttered. "You got tangled up in Pirate business, didn't you?"

"They robbed us of all of our credits and fuel canisters," Saw said angrily. "We barely escaped with the files."

"Oh, good," said Sabine, relieved. "Where are you now?"

"Right near the Ryloth system."

"You're not _too_ far away," mused Ezra. "But maybe you want to get a little closer? Just so there's more of a chance of us getting them all?"

"No, Ezra," argued Sabine. "This has already taken too long."

"But don't we—"

"So do you want the files or not?" Saw interrupted.

"Yes," Sabine answered. "Chopper will give you the signal when we're ready to receive."

"Good." He nodded, then pressed a button on his wrist to end the transmission.

* * *

The Ghost crew struggled to stay awake until 2300, when the shift change happened. After a week of tedious and physically exhausting work, staying up past 2000 was a challenge. They took turns going to the mess to get cups of caf for themselves. Zeb and Sabine lay on the sectional in the lounge while Ezra was taking a nap in the corner.

"You ready?" asked Sabine drowsily, not opening her eyes.

Zeb grumbled and rolled his head over to the other side. "Yep."

Sabine held her wrist up and pried open an eye to check the time-tracker. "Only five more minutes." She dropped her hand heavily and closed her eyes again.

Chopper issued a few low beeps and swiveled his head around.

"Yes, Chop, we know," said Ezra, waking from his nap. "Leave our boots." He stood up and stretched. If only he had the constant energy of a droid.

A few minutes of silence passed. Sabine's time-tracker beeped, and they all struggled up from their resting positions.

"You have the chip?" asked Zeb.

"I do," she replied, holding it up.

"All right," Ezra declared. "Let's go."

Wearing only socks, they sprinted down the boarding ramp of the Ghost and across the hangar. Chopper's wheels squeaked the whole way, making the crew more tense. Sabine made a mental note to oil that wheel when they got back to the ship. Her thoughts went to Hera and her meticulous maintenance of him. They entered the passageways surrounding the command center and silently made their way toward it, stopping outside the door. Ezra carefully peeked around the corner to make sure they were safe.

"It's clear," he whispered.

"Let's make this quick," Sabine said. "Chopper, give the signal. Zeb, Ezra, you stand guard."

Something inside the droid's head started to whir. He rolled himself forward and stuck his manipulator into the astromech port, twisting it left and right a few times. The screen above it illuminated, showing four empty white bars. A piece of text flashed below them.

 _Insert chip._

Sabine guided the chip into the slot next to the screen until it automatically retracted it. The bars on the screen filled to the first marker, then paused. One by one, they got to the second, and the third, then the fourth as Saw's data downloaded.

 _This part always takes the longest,_ she thought. Thirty seconds later, the fifth marker filled. It took another ten seconds to clear the sixth, then the seventh...

She knew it shouldn't be taking this long. _These files_ _must be absolutely massive!_ She stared intensely at the bars, waiting for them to move.

At his post by the door, Zeb tried to tune out the electronic noises of the chip-burning. He listened closely for something he thought he heard in the corridor, but the beeps and rasps of the data download were all he could hear. He stilled himself and listened intently. Yes—a rhythmic sound echoing off the walls.

His eyes widened. _Footsteps._

"Someone's coming!" he hissed.

 _"Kriff!"_ whispered Sabine. "Come on, come on, come on..." The indicator bars refused to move.

"Getting closer!" Zeb said through gritted teeth.

"Ezra, do something!" she ordered.

Ezra dashed to the door, hugging the wall by Zeb, hoping the person wouldn't sense the movement. He shut his eyes and reached out to the man through the Force. He concentrated for a while, holding his hand out in front of him. The footsteps drew closer... _closer..._

Sabine saw the Rebel trooper continue straight down the hall as Ezra lowered his hand. A sigh of relief escaped her. Finally, the bars reached the final marker. The console ejected the chip and she snatched it, tucking it in her belt pouch.

"Come on!" she urged, standing up. "Go, go, go, go!"

They ran silently back to the Ghost with the information. After making sure everybody got in, Zeb hit the controls to fold up the boarding ramp. He, Ezra, and Sabine all agreed to search the files tomorrow; it was time for a good, long sleep. At last, they were one step closer to bringing Hera home.


	13. Chapter 13

_Ezra..._

The whisper echoed in darkness.

 _Ezra..!_

A hissing sound grew louder, then died away. A low, rhythmic thumping began in the silence. Then another, much softer and faster, fell into place with the first. The beats meshed in a perfect pattern.

Muffled cries erupted in the distance. Blaster fire, shouting, screams of the wounded. A speeder started up and sped away. More blaster fire. The explosion of a building. _Flames._

An angry Lasat's voice faded in, accompanied by the sound of knuckles knocking plastic armor. He snarled before the snap of a spine split through the space.

 _Zeb?_

A lightsaber activated, its hum filling the air. The crack of clashing blades echoed sharply in the distance. Flesh was seared, followed by a cry of pain. The area illuminated just enough so the figures were barely visible.

 _No._

The red blade emerged from the back of his chest. It retracted back into its hilt, sending him falling to the ground.

 _Kanan!_ the distance shouted as it faded to black.

The voices kept on. Hera's weeping, her singing, her murmuring to the baby. Sabine's quiet sobbing, her airbrush spraying. Zeb's laughter. Chopper's caterwauling. Kanan's dying breath.

Groaning, followed by shallow breathing, turned into a scream. The darkness of the space turned to a deep red. A quiet tapping sound came from the right.

 _Hera._

A darkness blacker than anything before swept across the area. Mechanized breathing lingered. A woman's pained cry and forced deep breaths sounded close.

 _I bring news of a potential apprentice,_ a male voice said.

 _We shall unleash his power on the Rebels... Restore order to the galaxy..._

 _It has yet to be born... We're keeping Syndulla here..._

 _Good, good,_ said a vaguely familiar voice. _Notify me the moment the child is born._

* * *

Ezra jolted out of sleep, breathing quickly. He sat up in bed and glanced around the dark room. Zeb was snoring on the bunk below him. Ezra let his eyes adjust to the darkness, controlled his breathing, and let his mind return to his dream.

 _So it's true,_ he thought, remembering the short vision he had a week ago. _Vader_ does _want the baby._

He realized that if Vader planned to apprentice Hera's child to become a Sith lord, saving her before she gave birth was more important than ever. If he and the crew _did_ manage to rescue her, would they be hunted for their entire lives? Would they have to spend each day worrying about whether they would be safe? Would life ever be back to normal?

Ezra dreaded the thought of Hera on the run from the Empire, having to live under immense fear for the safety of her child.

 _That reminds me,_ he thought. _I'm supposed to train him._

How he was going to mentor a small child in a somewhat confusing concept was beyond him. Was he supposed to be the baby's father-figure, like Kanan was to him? When should he earn his lightsaber? How was he to teach him with incomplete training? What if _he_ was actually a _she?_

Deepening his meditation, Ezra remembered that Kanan was the one who knew he had a gift for connecting with other beings. Kanan knew he needed a dad, so he stepped in and taught him as his son. He taught Ezra the best he could, even with incomplete training himself.

 _I'm just like him,_ Ezra realized. _He doubted himself. He knew he wasn't the best. He wanted me to have someone better, but he was the only one I wanted._

Kanan wanted _Ezra,_ no one else, to train his child because he knew he could do it.

The door to the room suddenly slid open, revealing Chopper. He warbled and spun his head around, getting Ezra's attention. He slid down from his bunk and stretched his upper body, hearing Zeb groan and roll over to face the wall.

"Yes, Chop," Ezra yawned. "I didn't need a wake-up call."

Chopper replied with a series of beeps. He pointed down the hallway.

"She's up already?" Ezra walked idly toward the lounge. When he opened the door, he found Sabine hunched over on the sectional with the endless list of prisoner files pulled up on the holotable. She scrolled carefully through them, not paying any attention to Ezra.

"Hey, Sabine," he said, trying to casually readjust his hair. He realized he probably had terrible bedhead. "You're up early."

"Yeah," she replied, breaking her gaze at the files. "I couldn't stay asleep. I'm just... so worried about Hera."

Ezra sat down next to her. "Me, too."

Sabine briefly returned to the files before letting out a sigh.

"What's Vader going to do to her, Ezra?"

He paused. "My guess is he either plans to keep her alive for interrogation, or to kill her after she has the baby."

Sabine went silent. She glanced down at the floor. "And what about _him?"_

"Remember how the Inquisitors hunted down those Force-sensitive children?"

She nodded.

"They were afraid they'd become Jedi," said Ezra.

Sabine froze in shock. "So you're saying—"

"Vader wants the baby as his apprentice."

"Oh, no," said Sabine under her breath. "Did you tell Hera?"

"No. I had the vision the night she was captured."

"Ezra!" she scolded him. "You knew about this? And you didn't think to tell us?"

"It wasn't clear at the time!" he said defensively. "I didn't know for sure until last night."

"But you knew?"

"Okay, the first time wasn't really—well, it was more of a—"

"A what?" she said sharply.

"It was just something Vader said. I didn't know if it was real."

Sabine sighed again. "This is going to make rescuing her _really_ difficult if she's being guarded under Vader's orders." She hated thinking about how the Empire was probably treating Hera. Being away from her family was bad enough. Sabine had hoped to be there for her during labor, just so she could have a hand to squeeze. She imagined it would be a lot harder without Kanan by her side.

"Well, we can at least start by finding Hera's prison records," suggested Ezra.

"Right," replied Sabine before looking back up at the hologram. "Do you want to give it a try?"

"Sure."

Ezra relaxed his body and closed his eyes. He reached out with the Force and focused on the weak signatures connected to each name on the hologram. He raised his hand slowly and held it in front of him, and the names began to scroll downward. As the Force signatures became more clear, they scrolled faster; Hera was still quite far down the list. Her deeply lonely and fearful state stood out compared to the others.

The names were soon only a white blur. About twelve seconds passed before they gradually slowed and finally came to a stop. The cursor rested on Hera's name.

"Wow," Sabine remarked. "It would have taken me a day to do that."

"What can I say?" replied Ezra with a half-grin. "It's a gift."

Sabine opened Hera's file, seeing her picture, a distant and slightly saddened expression stuck upon her face. "024-601," she mumbled, glancing at her identification number beside it. The document showed all of the typical data: height, weight, age, sex, race, home planet, and offenses committed. And of course, in the additional information, how far along she was in her pregnancy. She shifted the page down to look at the rest of it, hoping to see where Hera was being held.

The Mandalorian's eyebrows knitted closer together as she skimmed further down the document. "Some of these words are garbled, it doesn't say her prison block or cell number," she said, her tone growing increasingly frustrated. "These files are incomplete! _Karabast!"_ She clapped her hands to her head and slumped into the back of the sectional, letting out a growl. "You were right, Ezra," she moaned. "We should have had Saw get closer."

"We _will_ find Hera," Ezra reassured her. "I promised her I would. We'll just have to find another way."

Sabine looked at the file once more. She scrolled back up to the top, seeing Hera's picture and the number beside it.

"Maybe..." she paused. "Maybe we only need her identification number," she glanced at Ezra. "024, I wonder if that's a cruiser number."

"That's a start. Do any other prisoners have it?" Ezra asked.

"Just what I was thinking," answered Sabine before she exited Hera's document. "Look," she said, pointing to the surrounding names. "They're all tagged 024." She panned up and down the list a few lines to see the whole unit. "And there's Andrexis, looks like Saw was right about him."

"The number has to mean _something_ ," Ezra said. "Maybe we can find it on the fleet files."

Sabine nodded and flipped a small switch right above the disk slot on the holotable. The prison list disappeared before a large red imperial emblem cued up on hologram. It spun slowly around for a short while before dissipating, revealing a chunk of unreadable data.

"It's encrypted," she stated. "Hey Chop, a little help?" she shouted to the hallway. They both could hear the astromech's groan from Hera's quarters. He grumbled as he rolled into the lounge, wheels squeaking.

"Would you decrypt these files for us?" Sabine asked the droid. Chopper huffed and issued grumpy beeps.

"Because you're our droid, and we need your help."

He muttered resentfully and shook his head.

"Do you want to save Hera or not?"

Chopper sighed and extended his manipulator to rotate the astromech port. The hologram flickered several times before coming back on with the text changed to basic.

"I can look through these ones if you want to get something to eat," offered Ezra.

Sabine smiled a little. "Thanks, I think I will." She got up from the sectional and headed to the Ghost's galley.

Ezra slid over to where she was sitting and opened the fleet files. He scanned the extensive but comparatively shorter list of names of teams, squadrons, and whole armadas of imperial ships. He shifted to a different page listing every class of TIE fighter, cruiser, and dreadnought they had. He kept switching through the different lists until he eventually came back to the first one.

 _No search bar,_ he thought jokingly.

Ezra shifted back to one of the lists that showed the amount of each type of ship the Empire had. He selected 'IMPERIAL-CLASS STAR DESTROYER (25,000),' which led him to a huge list of numbers.

"Shouldn't be long now," he said to himself before scrolling down a short way. He opened file 024 and froze as he read the name.

 _The Chimaera._

Part of Ezra knew that of _course_ it had to be Thrawn's ship. He didn't want to think about the things he'd probably done to Hera. But the other part couldn't register it, as if it were still encrypted. Nonetheless, he panned down to view the rest of the file, looking for anything on its whereabouts. When he read where it was stationed, he stopped in shock.

Just then, Sabine returned with a plate of hexagonal waffles. "What is it?" she asked anxiously. "Did you find something?"

Ezra nodded slowly. "She's on the Chimaera," he answered, "and it's stationed over Lothal."


	14. Chapter 14

Hera was sitting on the cell bench, resting her back against the wall. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, relieving her neck from the increasing strain of her lengthening lekku. She inhaled slowly, bringing her hands up to her belly, and breathed out with a sigh.

 _How did it all come to this?_ She thought. _I'm in prison, away from my crew, and pregnant with the child that the most feared Sith lord in the galaxy wants to apprentice. A child, who is due in three weeks._

Hera yearned for Kanan. Having at least the slightest presence of him near her made her feel a little less distressed. She didn't want to think about how hard giving birth would be without him, much less raising a child.

Just then, she realized the wisdom of her father's words from when she visited him five months back.

* * *

 _Hera set the Phantom down on the flat, dusty surface of Ryloth. Staring at her father's new house outside the viewport, she thought of him. The last time they had spoken was when she blew up their old house, which was infested with imperial stormtroopers. And now, she had life-changing news for him._

Will he be happy? _Hera thought as she approached the door._ Frightened? Proud? Dare I think it, disappointed?

 _For a second, she wished she hadn't come to Ryloth. She stopped outside the door, contemplating if she should go in or not._

 _Hera took a deep breath._ He deserves to know. _She knocked on the door._

 _The door slid back, revealing her father. He smiled._ "Kassurra, _Hera."_

 _Hera bowed her head._ "Kassurra, _Father. It's good to see you."_

 _"I've missed you too. Come in; I've just made tea."_

 _She followed him inside, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings. On a pedestal in the corner, there was a holodisk projecting an image of her mother. Hera smiled as she reminisced about the times she showed her the Kalikori, explaining what each piece was and who made it. She told her that one day she would add to the art and her children after her, and that day would be quite soon; it was traditional for a Twi'lek couple to do so during their first pregnancy. She imagined that her mother had a much easier time telling her parents she was pregnant than Hera was about to have telling her father. She sat down in one of the chairs as Cham brought the tea to the low wooden table._

 _"How have you been, Father?" Hera asked._

 _"Not well. Our people have suffered another devastating loss in_ She'i'nku," _Cham said solemnly._

 _"Oh, no. I'm glad you made it."_

 _"I'm not so sure I feel the same," he sighed. "How has your Rebellion been holding up?"_

 _Hera chuckled nervously. "Most of us have stayed alive, but it seems as if the cause... is dying."_

 _"I'm proud of you for sticking it out."_

 _They both drank their tea and sat in silence for a short while._

 _"You've come to visit me in person... alone," Cham noted. "Is there a reason?"_

 _Hera smiled and chuckled a bit after sipping her tea. "Well, that's just the thing," she said. "I've got some big news for you."_

 _"You do?"_

 _She stood up and Cham followed the gesture of importance. She loosely grasped her father's hands and held eye contact with him._

Here goes, _she thought._

 _"Father," she began, returning to her original accent. She took a deep breath._ "Ri'lek mliyaki."

 _Cham's eyes widened. There was a second of intense silence, which made Hera even more nervous. Finally, he began to smile._

 _"You... you are?"_

 _Hera nodded._

 _"With Kanan's baby?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"Where is he? Why hasn't he come with you?"_

 _Hera glanced at the floor and swallowed. She hesitated to answer, the images of Kanan on his deathbed flashing through her mind._

 _"He and Ezra... had a battle against Vader." She paused for a while. "Kanan didn't make it."_

 _They both leaned into a tight embrace and held it for a long time._

 _"I'm so sorry, Hera," he said over his daughter's shoulder. He wished he didn't know how devastating it was to lose a mate. He let go of her and they both kept standing._

 _"I'll be okay. I just... I need time."_

 _"I know you will. You're strong, Hera," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "And I'm proud of you. I'm very excited to have a grandchild,_ Atuhlkaa'eyi!" _They both sat down again while he poured more tea for them. "But... I worry about him."_

 _"How so?"_

 _"Being how rare a human-Twi'lek conception is, I—I worry about complications in the pregnancy."_

 _Hera sighed. "I've wondered that, too. I've been keeping in touch with the medics in the base, but most of them have never seen one before." She couldn't imagine possibly losing her and Kanan's only child._

 _"I suppose they wouldn't know enough about one to know the risks."_

 _"Otherwise, I'm doing everything I can to help keep this kid healthy."_

 _Cham nodded. He still wished Hera had chosen a Twi'lek as her mate. He knew she truly loved Kanan and that she was deeply joyed to have been able to conceive with him, and truthfully, so was Cham. But his whole family, going back countless generations, had all been Twi'lekku. Hera had never been traditional from the time she could crawl, and now that streak in her would change their entire family tree forever._

 _"I hope you're keeping safe as well, Hera," he began before taking a drink of his tea._

 _"I try, Father."_

 _"I... I want you to be well protected," he said slowly._

 _Hera stopped drinking her tea and looked up at him, swallowing quickly. "What are you saying?"_

 _"I'd like to send one of my warriors of your choice with you... One who'd care for and watch over you, and be a father-figure to the baby."_

 _"You mean... You want me pick a new mate?"_

 _Cham didn't speak or move, but his face seemed to say 'yes.'_

 _"I—" Hera paused, then shook her head. "No. I can't do that... Kanan was the love of my life. We were committed to each other for good. For better or for worse. And now, he's the father of our child."_

 _"A father who's not there, who will never be there," said Cham. "Believe me, it's hard enough to raise a seven-year-old by yourself, let alone a newborn."_

 _"I'm not alone," Hera retorted. "I have my family. I have Sabine, Zeb, and Ezra, who love me... who love the baby. They'll care for us both, I know they will."_

 _"How do you know? They are not true family; they share no blood with you. They can leave you any rotation they choose."_

 _"True family isn't defined by blood. True family fights for each other, loves one another, cares for each other, no matter what. And they've already done so much for me."_

 _Cham sighed and held the bridge of his nose, mystified and discontented with his daughter's unorthodox views. "This is not the way of our family, child," he said under his breath._

 _"Well, it's the way of mine."_


	15. Chapter 15

Andrexis had said food shipments were scheduled to come to Star Destroyers every two weeks. Hera had been counting down the days until the next transport should arrive. If her count was right, today was the day; it should come at midday. Hera waited tensely until her unit was summoned out of its cells for the midday meal. She glanced over to Andrexis as they were marched down to the mess deck.

 _Ready?_ he tapped with his thumb.

 _As always,_ she responded.

They both nodded before entering the line for bowls of gelatinous protein. Hera hoped devoutly that this would be the last day of eating it.

Hera and Andrexis placed their bowls on either side of Kna'tzhuk. After two weeks apart, Hera enjoyed seeing their familiar faces. They ate in silence for a while, trying to ignore the slimy texture of the food.

"So," Andrexis spoke quietly. "Let's go over the plan. Hera, you're the last one to be put into your cell. You'll have to take out the guards and get the codes."

Kna'tzhuk frowned. "Wait, shouldn't she—"

"I'll be fine," she answered. "If something goes wrong, they won't hurt me."

Andrexis nodded. "I'll steal one of their helmets so we can get live updates on the cargo ship. We wait until they start unloading, sneak through the hangar bay and into the ship, drop the cargo, and we fly out of here."

A short silence passed. Kna'tzhuk grinned, baring his sharp teeth.

"Today's the day," he said happily. "The day we can go home. Home to my tribe."

"Home to my brother," Andrexis added.

Hera nodded and smiled. "Home to my family."

* * *

The prisoners finished their meal and were led back to their cells. One by one, they were shoved into the tiny rooms. Hera glanced over her shoulder, watching the line grow shorter. She noted where Kna'tzhuk's cell was as he was pushed in. Next was the Togruta, then the Ithorian, the Rodian, Andrexis...

A gloved hand firmly grasped Hera's shoulder. With just enough hesitation so that the trooper let his guard down, she spun on her heel and stamped on his foot as hard as she could. His cry of pain was abruptly cut off by her elbow to his jaw. She heard his neck snap as he crumpled to the ground.

"Hey!" the other guard shouted, his blaster pointed at her chest. Without her usual grace, Hera managed to kick the blaster out of his hand and pin him against the wall with her hands around his throat. In desperation, the trooper brought his wrists down on her elbows, hoping to break her grip. She quickly recovered from the sudden jolt, and with the rest of her strength, threw her body to the side, toppling the both of them. She scrabbled around to kneel on his chest, ignoring his repeated blows to her back. Scowling, she leaned her weight on her hands and squeezed tighter until he went limp.

Breathing heavily, Hera slowly stood up and stepped over the dead troopers to free Andrexis and Kna'tzhuk. Andrexis grabbed the blasters and one of the helmets while Hera and Kna'tzhuk dumped the bodies in the nearest trash compactor. Andrexis put the helmet on and listened to the intercom for a bit.

 _We've just received intel from cruiser 1134..._

 _TK-4741, you kenneled 'em yet?_

 _That Bothan's really causing us trouble..._

 _Want to head to target practice?_

 _TK-4741, can you hear me?_

Startled, he scrambled for the mic chip. "Uh, yes sir," he responded. "Just took care of the prisoners."

 _And what of Syndulla?_

"Uh..." his eyes darted around while he thought of something to say. "She... She seems to be perfectly healthy."

 _Excellent. TK-9993 and I are heading to target practice. Want to join us?_

Andrexis began to panic. "S-sure, I've just got to... use the refresher first. I'll be there shortly."

He took the helmet off right as the others returned. "We don't have much time," he told them as he shoved a blaster in Kna'tzhuk's paws. "Come on, let's go."

The three moved swiftly through the monochromatic corridors, stopping at each intersection to listen for footsteps. Hera was surprised that no one had heard her panting. They dashed across another corridor before they stopped again at a door.

"In here!" Andrexis whispered as he gestured for them to follow.

The prisoners ducked into the small, dark room. He turned on the lights, revealing its contents—it was a refresher. They crowded into one of the stalls in case someone else walked in. Andrexis activated the helmet intercom again and turned the volume up so they all could listen.

 _Governor Pryce..._

 _Let's head over to hangar bay 1._

 _Hey! I almost hit it!_

 _Something's off.. the cargo ship-_

He turned a dial on the helmet, allowing him to follow that signal.

 _Where is it? The hangar bay's empty._

Hera and Andrexis exchanged worried looks.

 _The cargo ship. It should have been here two hours ago._

 _Have we had any recent contact with them?_

 _Not in the last 10 rotations._

He quickly turned the helmet off.

"Mission abort, mission abort!" He slammed open the stall door. "Back to the cells!"

* * *

Something pulled Zeb out of sleep. He groaned and shifted his gaze over to the time-tracker. He was pretty sure it said three. He swallowed, realizing his mouth was terribly dry. So, he got out of bed, cracked his back, and headed to the 'fresher for a glass of water. He had several, savoring the cool liquid on his tongue, then realized he was hungry as well.

The Lasat climbed down to the galley and checked each compartment for something to eat, but everything had been picked over. He rummaged through another cabinet, finding a pair of dried meilooruns. He took one and brought it to his mouth, but then stopped. These weren't any meilooruns; these were _Hera's_ meilooruns. And the last thing he wanted was to face the wrath of a very pregnant General Syndulla, who could quite possibly be in labor the next time they met. He put it back in the cabinet and found a half-eaten package of tough crackers.

Zeb sat at the table and reached into the opened bag, being careful not to wake Sabine or Ezra. He held a cracker in his teeth and snapped a chunk off, then made his chewing slow and quiet. He swallowed the nearly flavorless wad and almost took another bite before the holodisk in the cockpit beeped.

 _Who could possibly be calling at this hour?_ Zeb thought as he began to climb up the ladder.

 _"This is Cham Syndulla, leader of the Ryloth Rebellion. I have come to speak to the Ghost crew."_

 _Cham?_

Zeb entered the cockpit and pressed a button on the console.

"Hey, uh, this is Zeb," he greeted him, rubbing his eyes. "It's... three in the morning."

Cham bowed his head. _"My apologies. I've come to speak with you about Partisan One's transmissions."_

The Lasat stopped for a moment. "Wait... How'd you get those?"

 _"They came straight for my ship,"_ he explained. _"We intercepted two of them."_

Zeb chuckled. "Oh, Sabine's going to like this. Let me get her."

Cham nodded, and Zeb left the cockpit. He went into Sabine's cabin, overwhelmed by the smell of paint, and shook her shoulder gently.

"Hey," he said gently. "Hey, wake up."

Sabine groaned and rolled over on her other side. "No..."

"Cham's calling. He got Saw's transmissions."

Her eyes snapped open and she stumbled out of bed. She clutched Zeb's arm as he led her to the cockpit, where Hera's father waited on the holodisk.

"You did?" Sabine mumbled, squinting at the blue light. "You got 'em?"

 _"Yes. It took me and my crew a week to track the signal."_

Sabine smiled weakly and then began to laugh. She hugged Zeb tightly, relieved and joyful that the Rebel base was still hidden.

 _"I have also heard some bad news about Hera. Has she truly been captured?"_

Zeb sighed. "Yeah," he muttered. "Vader took her straight from our ship." His hand tightened into a fist.

 _"Vader?"_ Cham inquired.

"The Sith lord that rules the Empire," Sabine explained. "We think."

"He wants Kanan and Hera's baby as his apprentice..." Ezra had crept into the cockpit without them noticing. They were both a little surprised by his voice.

"Ryma'geeyi'tak allesh," Cham said under his breath. _"She'll need to be saved, and soon."_

"Luckily, we know where she is." Sabine yawned. "On the Chimaera, stationed over Lothal. We've been working on a plan."

"But, we're grounded for another two weeks for going AWOL," Ezra added.

Cham put his hand up to his chin and lowered his gaze to the ground. _"And when is she due to give birth?"_

"Two weeks," the mandalorian answered.

 _"What is your plan so far?"_

"We'd... thought about hijacking a transport and sneaking on board in disguises," Ezra said. "We'd break Hera out of her cell and get her back to the ship... somehow."

 _"You could pretend to escort her,"_ he suggested. _"But what if something goes wrong? You will need enough forces to create a diversion."_

"That's the other thing," said Sabine. "I'd hoped some other Rebels at our base would be willing to help, but I guess it's not their mission."

 _"It is_ my _mission,"_ said Cham. _"I would trade my life for Hera's and my grandchild's._ _I've spoken with my fleet; we have decided we would help if necessary, for the sake of family and preserving life."_

"I was hoping you'd say that," she replied. "We could use all the help we can get."

 _"You are very welcome, Sabine."_ Cham smiled. _"Let us speak again in the morning of your time_ _, so that we can make a better plan."_


End file.
